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Get out.

Footsteps echo inside my head, Silent alarms start to sound, Doors slam left and right. Trapped and no where to go, You sit and you plot. What will finish her? It’s a game, I get it. Make your next move, I dare you. I don’t need anything, But I want everything. Maybe I can sweat it out, Maybe I can forget, Maybe it’s that easy. I never lit a match with intent to start a fire, but recently the flames have gotten out of control. My mind has reached it’s limit One is one too many. I pace with frustration: This isn’t fair, This is my life. For you, it’s just another game. Each move practiced and perfected, Leaving little room for error, Always having the upper hand. Well guess what, Don’t bother. You have already lost this one. Or so I keep telling myself. As I wait and hope That maybe, just maybe.
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Written by
alessandra-cooluris
American
Published
Apr 16, 2013
Lines·Words
44·154
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