Isn’t it crazy, these games
On those days, I wonder how they feel
yet, don’t want their experience
Could put them in a story
So pretty
But
Don’t want to be them.
Cleansed my issues,
Don’t want them back.
Did you put that skill
To good use
Thinking
You made me want to leave
When truly
My entire life has been
looking for any reason
To stay.
Perhaps
Your intentions are good;
How many times
My guardians have tried
To remove me.
One more chance,
Another day.
Imagine
If I wear bait for justice
To seek you out –
My hunter,
Final.
Death,
So different for each of us,
But oh my heart
How I love thee.
These partnerships work
So well,
Together.
And certainly
I would remember
Ever
Having a skill.
Do I have a “true self,”
I dare say
I wouldn’t know…
Poetry
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