If you shot me, would it make any difference at all?
Or all the difference in the world?
If I held a gun to your head, would they write me off with insanity?
Even if this is as lucid as I'd ever been?
Maybe I wanted to see if the way I rotted would bring out the best in all of them,
maybe,
but even that was off beat,
and then off the beaten path,
even though the path is relative,
I am your relative,
just as you are mine,
and so forth and so on,
until we circle back to the hive mind that was once the concord
Maybe I was divisive,
ruthless even,
but I was certain that our amiable beginnings were not the makings of an armistice,
there was too much muddled in the mayhem of our minds,
far too much and from scores ago
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