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I understand what it means to be a gun. Enticing, opulent violence Glorified beauty, a means to protect you A single shot true in the wind, based on your aim. I am a thing that comes with warning signs Laws and unspoken understanding of safety But they never bothered to tell you about baretta bites and kick back How touching me wrong could enduse a misfire. I don't think you ever gave a care. You want me close like any creature comfort To embolden some sense of what you feel you should be Until I scare you enough For code locked cages hidden in a closet The world is a cruel place, you seek my comfort again. The heat of a salty tongue, your weeping eyes, and the expert curl of your finger under the fever-prayer for something better than what you have now. Blessed release. I am a creature of cautionary tale.