trappings

there they go again,
placing their bodies,
and vodka,
and cigarettes,
all within the parameters
of a steeltrap jaw
that clasps
around my chest
when excersised.

they decode everything
that i am weak upon,
like
i'm the result
of some gun.

they've shot me before,
a million times over,
but there are enough holes
thickening in me
to mount
a resistance.

and some are good,
and some are bad,
and i swear,
they all compete
for who is
the loudest.

i don't think
they'll ever understand
how to measure
the depth
of these teethmarks.