A Poem

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You’ve created your pit, your hell your desire, right?

The fire demon eyes, your anger when you look—

At me, you see victim, weaker

I dig deeper my trench to protect

You are anger without remorse

I am to you the source, instigations, tribulations wrongs all within yourself.

Not me little me

I did it all

I take it all

And bare it all.

Burdens—your evil infections that turn into projections of how you see

Me little me

Flames and curves of night baseballs in your eyes

Me without “diamonds”

But bat to smack victim

Just me little me

Courageous is he

Body strength without soul you are

Face without smile

You are empty

I fear games of your one sided sport

- How am I to run without ground

- How am I to cry with ducts emptied into bruises

- How am I to guard without security

How will I live?

I sink into quicksands of sorrow and fear

My yearns turn into condensations on glasses, time passes,

Washed away with your sipping and consumtion of me.

I’ve reached the edge

Your holy hell grounds

Kicking and screaming all to be buried in your pit.

How can you live?

I give up my fight all for a glimpse or sight of peace

Release me

Let me breathe once

To taste without hateful fogs

Blinding my eyes and smothering my lungs



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