Two

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If you feel
like there is something
to blame me for,
you are undeniably correct.
Everything I've done,
it doesn't matter
which me was responsible,
from the caverns of memory
stirs a pool of regret and
tears.
the sand form the shores
hold me down
and the water
laps over,
covering all that I was
and all I could of been
with bitter oblivion.

and I know it was me,
it was I who
thought
for an estranged
sliver
that i could have been bulletproof.
The shells are gathering at me feet,
seeing the pistol
in my hand
does not confuse me,
but when the others take control,
fire away,
to you
I'm sorry
sorry I could not see any other
way.

Acts of Rain ||a collection of poetry|| #Wattys2016Where stories live. Discover now