An Aggrieved Bullet

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic


Another original poem, authored by me. WARNING: This piece contains dark subject matter that some may view as disturbing. Discretion advised.

Submitted: August 31, 2018

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Submitted: August 31, 2018

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You can sit there and smile if you want, or you can sit there and laugh
I just want you to know you can't ploy with me, because I know it's a mask
You always tried lying to me, to deceive me, along with everyone else,
but you do fully know the truth, so why is it that you lie to yourself?
I trusted you when I asked, if you would look at me in the same sense you do now,
if you could see all my blemishes, if you knew all my pain?
Could you maintain the capability to withhold the intimate information,
or would your curiosity override your compassion, and exploit my discomforts for some twisted personal gain?
You lied to me. Why?
I depended upon you to bury the private affairs deep within your soul,
these fragments that formed my past, a chunk that transformed me whole,
the ambition to file over them with restored memoirs becoming my primary goal,
instead, you grabbed the smoking barrel, shifted it around, and launched a loaded projectile, leaving an aggrieved bullet hole.
You lacerated me. How could you?

I sometimes fantasize about the conclusion to my own life,
as a matter of fact, it completely and utterly engrosses me.
I'm constantly waiting for the right time, but there's never an exceptional time,
it's consistently waiting for a customer service representative to answer the opposite of the end of the telephone line,
their vocal cords ringing in my ears, assuring me that the time-consuming delay is a bygone.
I continually have suicide in the front of my mind,
lusting about not having to wake up, forcing myself through yet another day.
I foresee myself overdosing in my very own bed,
maybe then I will stop hurting those very few close to me,
if they would fully comprehend that I was dead.
Maybe then I wouldn't be such a burden,
maybe then I wouldn't conjure up such a scheme.
Did you know that by releasing my inner demons on your personal TMZ,
All I've had the strength to do, is stare at the reflecting glass in the corridor,
and scream?

One day soon, however, I  will vacate my place on this earth, without no warning or sign,
and enter into nothing besides a world divine.
I just wouldn't wish for you to be distressed for me,
as we all enter Earth as the status of a tourist.
Most enjoy the life they're gifted, filled with sightseeing,
accomplishing an occasional good deed,
but then there are those few,
filled with a mixture of evil, wickedness, and uncurable greed.
We all walk this earth as a tourist,
I just so happen to be leaving earlier than others.
One day your life can stick to one another like the stickiest of glue,
and with the snap of the fingers of authority, it can all descend apart.
And it's all because of the aggrieved bullet,
that you willingly shot into my heart.


© Copyright 2018 Andrew Patterson. All rights reserved.

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