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They expect me
to write about him

They expect
words of anger
words of bitterness
words of sadness

There is a great
problem here

Those words
don’t live
inside me

Those words
are not
my words

You see…

He doesn’t actually
exist anymore

Because he never did

He was a mere
two dimensional image
propped up by my need

A fantasy
a mirage
imagined
from waves
of heat
floating up
from hot cement
only to dissipate
in a cold winter wind

There was a time
when I believed
he was the closest
I had ever come
to true evil

Until I remembered
he was just another man
with a sick brain

When I looked
into his heart
for the last time
I saw nothing
but emptiness

It was time
for me to walk away

I didn’t look back
because
there was nothing there

I just walked on
watching small clouds
of dust
dance
around my
worn walking boots

Sometimes
you can find beauty
in the most unlikely
places

And sometimes
your world stops
stutters
and slowly begins
again

 

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