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i did this.
and i know she will never forgive me.
i should feel it now
it should be here
strangling
and i should fight it.
but instead it is quiet,
and the voices that are my own are hiding beneath my flesh.
they do not even try to tear away their prison.
the demons dare not remove the precious hinges of their power
or lest they escape and i am free forever.
so they internalise
poking my heart
drooling over the pain of every gunshot
and yet i cannot make it stop.
because how do you complain from the noise
when there is none?
and it is only myself and the soft tapping of fate
carefully mocking me
and the words i crafted so elegantly,
infused with the miniscule endlessness of pain and loss and hate.
they hover above me and i cannot snatch at them
for fear i am trapped forever.
and yet the softness of the silence does comfort me
with no further purpose than to mock my bleeding fingers
and flailing arms
and fear of the gunshots.
it mocks my villainous
my corrupt
wicked
horrible
horrible
words
and the life they gave me.
but only from a distance
since everything it needs
everything i know will rot my soul
and blitz and blend my heart
is within me.
i did this.
and i know i will never forgive myself.
...
About the Creator
Ruby Red
"All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts."
- William Shakespeare
Consider this a doorway to my heart and soul. 🌱
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