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A Bullet's Tale

i was born sturdy;

infused with different elements

fixed and molded to a perfect shine.

unlike others,

i was made with a dream

to go far, to travel, to mean something.

but i couldn't.

because

i'm

me.

you see,

my type and i,

we're all made to go

in the same path

because

we're no different

from

one another.

 

i once laid sound asleep in my room

until i heard a

BANG

that sent me soaring.

i ran and i flew

excitedly seeing the world

like a baby bird whose wings

had carried him through the sky

for the very first time.

majestic and unstoppable;

i flew.

until suddenly,

the world shifted.

 

terrified,

i looked around desperately

while i broke through the air

like a hammer through glass

like a shoe on a chip

like a fist through a wall.

and my heart sunk.

i could see the clouds above

then

the ground below.

they were watching me,

pressuring me.

but i couldn't stop.

the skies had turned black

and red

and i

pounded through skin

and i

panicked.

 

questions overwhelming

my ****** core

is this all i am?

is this all i could be?

 

 

and i had to face,

right then and there,

that this is what i was made for;

to ****

to hurt

to destroy.

 

my deed is done.

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Written by
zaskia-natalie-villa
American
Published
Dec 29, 2012
Lines·Words
61·222
Permission

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