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Am I? Am I

good enough? Looking at my reflection through this broken mirror. Maybe it's just showing me what I really am on the inside.

         I don't know... I never did. Slowly sliding down this brick wall, the coldness cooling down my heated flesh, Curling up into a ball wrapping my arms around me like its a life line.
        I mumble to myself "am I? Am I good enough?"  for you to hurt and betray me then I must not be.

     But that's ok, I can never say no to you no matter how hard I try. Your touch, your breath, your words... are like poison that runs through my veins.
      But its alright because for a moment I felt alive, not anymore, no those days are over. I'm dead inside. It's just an endless void of darkness swirling all around me that I can't seem to get out of.

     It's all right, I take last glance at my bleeding wrist and say to myself "I was never good enough anyways" slowly  my vision fades I'm starting to feel free, then...it goes black.
Will start writing poems again soon, sorry for the wait...
I am nothing, for I am nothing compared to the willow which she embarks her mark upon. The stone which she carves her heart into, the wind where she dances the song of love.

   For I am nothing but the dirt she walks upon, the dust she spares no glance.
  
   But the rock she gazes upon looks at her with life and love. And the dirt is left there to wither and rot, and the light gives us love, but I am not in the light I am yet dirt.

   Do I receive no love? And as she dances in the wind, the rock will always follow and the dirt will stay and be left behind...
Feeling a bit left out so I wrote this, sorry I took so long.

— The End —