Lee Friedlander
By
Scott Wozniak
A Bullet Lodged Inside Me
Some thoughts
Scatter
Like buck shot,
Others lodge
themselves
In bone
After severing
Arteries.
This bleeding
memory
Of you
Is the latter.
Depends on Which Side of the Flames You’re On
If the world
was shaped
by insurgent
Angels
now labeled
as Demons,
why would I
think
the angel
on my shoulder
isn’t
a deceiver,
or the Demons
people say
control me
aren’t just
misunderstood?
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