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Dec 2020
Do not invite yourself into my inter monologue.
That space in-between my rib cage is no longer in use,
No thanks to you.
What else would you expect me to do?
Empathize,
Lick your face and wipe your eyes?
Cry.
Boo-hoo cry if you’d like.
If you wanna fight
We can strap up behind it...
But spare empathy?
I have none to share.
When you cold-cocked those lies betwixt my eyes;
Where was your sympathy then?
A calculated crime you didn’t have to commit,
But ya did.
Now I must search for forgiveness?
Crawling through sand, just to watch you lie in it.
The least you can do is apologize,
Because I’ve grown accustomed to your lies.
Never once pegged you as the murdering kind,
But murderers rarely look like murderers
Upon first sight.
Just like a thief in the night
You robbed me
...my hope, my peace;
my everything.
Confession #4
Home is where the heart sings, not where it whispers.

:):):)
John-Chris Ward
Written by
John-Chris Ward  23/M/Pleasant Grove, AL
(23/M/Pleasant Grove, AL)   
198
     Traveler
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