Turning the Tables

The boats speeding away
Is not just another hunter
Who doesn't know
Where nature gives its place

The half-red arrow
Coming from my chest
Is just another way
To pull the hook from my face

I'm like an open book
With no cover
And just
A rope for a spine

Up on a glass shelf
Just high enough
To meet
Your eyes

You always give me the last word
But look who's talking now

If those two
Mess this up for me this time
I guess I'll just
Have to kill them

Because this
Is the last chance
To do something
Productive before bedtime

And if the hallways clear
And you won't tell your best friend
Then I
Can join the ranks

Of crystal-smoking rednecks
And pill-swallowing bullies
Into goth
And living with their parents