The Guilt of Premeditated Murder

At first I felt nothing, which

You know I never feel.

I seemed heartless, I was cold.

I know how I looked to you, I know how you felt.

I lived inside that nothing and felt blessed by that nothing and at first, I was safe.


But memories started invading like

Nasty little soldiers, pinning medals to their chests for

Every knife they put through me,

And dear,

They fought so valiantly.


My heart no longer feels nothing.

This is being exposed, shell upside down, soft pink flesh turned to the sun.

This is the real pain, the

Hurting you.

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