who was holding the gun?

mckenna-christine Poems

i’m trying to get back to a place that never existed. you were the smoke, I, the mirror. i’ve always hated my reflection, eventually made friends with rejection. You could probably already tell I’ve fist fought l once or twice with acceptance. We could never see eye to eye. How quickly you turned the tables. Friendly fire. I hate to, but i’ll admit that it all caught me by surprise. You got me good. You ******* know it too. It sickens me to see how happy it makes you to put me in a mood. I want to be soft, i want to be kind to you. I want to show you parts i’ve kept sacred between myself and the noose.