Me

Shoot me down.
I will not fear. I will not cry.
I will not scream.
The love I have for you is great, my dear.
But something leads me to believe that you are a fake.
Do you hate me?
Is that why you torment me?
Why do you cut me? Why do you hurt me?
Why do you love to let me down?
Can you remember what it meant to love?
Do you know who I am anymore?
You look in the mirror and you long to kill the one you see.
He is me.
And I am you.
So look closely, my dear.
And you will see me.
Right before I stab you in the heart.
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Comments
Dylan! Ā This is a dark and brooding write. It is a tug of war between love and hate that self-torment brings. When one forgets the essentials of life the mirror reflects back a heart already wounded and bleeding. Ā This piece certainly conveys how poverty of heart and soul can lead one down a path were death awaits in all of its forms. Ā Well done.
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