The game

Empty words hang, like the empty promises that you made limp and lifeless in the air.
It’s always me that messes it up, yet this time I tried so hard to get it right, fooled for a while by the mask you wear, or may be just fooled by my own need for normality.
The game is over, I see you for who you are face of an angel with the venom of a serpent.
Yet you do not see me, for my blackness runs far deeper, my mask so much more……as he lays bleeding on the floor…..I wash my hands and walk away…..the game is over…..yet this time nobody wins!

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~ by Duma Key on June 21, 2011.

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