Too Late

July 27, 2010
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I hear your voice inside my head, but I told myself that you were dead. I always knew you wouldn't do. Someone like you is never true. I fall down on the kitchen floor; you're standing right behind the door. You walk inside and pull me up; my body weakens from your touch. I fall again, and I lay flat. You say I can do better than that. You notice that it's not a game, yet carry on, all in the same. My eyes are shut while you have you way with me. My hands search your pockets for a key; I grab it, and in your eye it goes. I get up and grab my clothes. I take my key and lock the door. Scared, running like never before. Somehow you catch up with me, and you tell me how sorry I'm about to be. You tie me up, you break me down. I'm too stiff to even make a sound. And now I find myself in here, where your voice has finally disappeared. I can't share with you how. But you're too late, so don't bother. Because I'm dead now.

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