Sometimes I write
because
the things that I want to say are
so deadly,
that if I don’t have a
pen
in my hand,
I might pick up a
sword.
Deep in my mind,
I know the
pen’s deadlier
but less bloodier
and no one truly
dies
but the hurt is real and
I could not care
any less
about what you feel
when it
slices into you.
Call it what you like,
but I call it
instant,
lyrical death.

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