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Identities

Did you know I’m running from you? I’m panting, struggling, bleeding to get as far away as I can, and I feel frightened at the brush of your finger tips. They pull at wisps of my hair sometimes, and I feel that I am so sly, being able to escape from your grasp.

I exasperate you don’t I?

What was your name again?

It’s me isn’t it?

When I call this at you, I don’t bother waiting for a reply, I just keep on running, running,

running

into disasters.

Do you know I chase you? I cry, I scream for you until my voice is hoarse. It’s exasperating, having you escape from the tips of my fingers. Sometimes, it’s satisfying to see you suffer from not listening to my calls. But I hurt for you.

I frighten you don’t I?

You call for my name.

But you don’t bother waiting for a reply, you keep running, running, running

causing both of us to fall into ruin.

What is my name?

My name is you.

I am you.



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wefellinLAVA said...
Oct. 28, 2010 at 2:09 am:
I lovelovelove this concept.  Treating your idenity as though it is a being seperate from yourself.  Couldn't have written it better.
 
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