We’re all time bombs
tock ticking away
with no explosions in the end
no flashes of flame
consuming those around us
scarring maybe, but they remain
release the weight, the pressure when
our pins are pulled- like grenades
no explosions or flames
only black like the hollow
gun-powderless shells
we are, but they claim not
Slice the wrong color and we’ll
fade away. Slice the right color
and we’ll fade away, just the same