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Thoughts.

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Surrounded by gloom and plagued by weariness,
I succumb to my mind.

My mind's a scary place.
To think is to let my demons out of their cages and allow them to roam,
Rampaging through my body.

There's no one but me in this tiny room,
So I suppose it won't hurt to let them romp until they're tired of destroying me.

The most lethal thought I've ever had the pleasure of possessing is the fact that I

Never

Could

Have

Existed.

Sometimes it's delicious to think about. A world without me.

But this old Earth wouldn't skip a beat.

I'm unnoticed anyway. I'm such an isolationist that no one would really notice if I happened to drop off one of the many edges of this old world one day.

Happens every day. It's routine now, I suppose.

But why'd you have to save me? Me?! Why couldn't you have saved one of the millions of others that have died at birth, before birth? Why'd I have to remain?

I don't know why I feel guilty.
Or maybe I just don't know.



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Squeaks said...
Aug. 8, 2011 at 11:05 am

This is good. (Even if you didn't need me to tell you that.) The form goes nicely, you have a nice mind for poetry, if that makes any sense to you. And the thoughts are true and good. Thanks for posting, I enjoyed reading!

--Squeaks

 
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