NaPoWriMo, Day Thirty, Poem Twenty Four

Redlined
E.H.

Bloodied
bullets blaze
beyond missed shot.

We live though
sped by
and bys

with doses of
friendly howz
itgoins.

Eventually, you
build resistance
to courtesy,

a wild hose
everyone let go
long ago.

Fellow lonlies
we run by afraid
to feel other wounds.

Exiled with
no benefit
of cast off,

we almost lack
nerve to handle
ourselves.