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Poem 3 | Gun Imagery

With each trigger pull, I’ll master the recoil— how to let it jolt through me, a reminder. A jolt I’ll grow fond of, like a pulse keeping time, echoing in the hollow of my bones. I won’t flinch when it sings through the silence, won’t blink when the flash blinds. There’s a choreography to surrender, a rhythm in the quiet aftermath. I will perfect the art of stillness, where breath is a betrayal. Each practice round, I’ll learn not to breathe until I forget how to.

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Jordon Carmden

LTIMindtree

20 days ago

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Jordon Lee

Student

20 days ago

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Kalan Gabriel

A large US based MNC.

20 days ago

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Kendall Carmden

Student

20 days ago

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Kendall Vernon

Student

20 days ago

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Blair Lee

LTIMindtree

20 days ago

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