GamesA Poem by Michelle LongTo you, life is a game of Russian rullet; Every abuse irrevocably adding a bullet; Every cut tightening the grip. You won't stop till the trigger is bent.
My pain builds-and you enjoy it, Letting it dig a hole through my skull. Breaking it open, and as your reward, I fall... You live for others' pain; feast apon it all.
You devour the hurt in which you put me through... Like a child with your enjoyable little game, Your prize is to put others to shame. To start again, you wait for your next unknowing prey...
It's time to make the kill, you start to let their mind fill, Luring them in with your fake, loving "will". The same convincing stories and lies, And soon that person deliberately dies... © 2009 Michelle Long
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2 Reviews Added on April 10, 2009 Last Updated on April 11, 2009 AuthorMichelle LongJapanAboutI find every piece of writing that I have currently posted on here terrible; they're all very old. I'd delete them, if I weren't such a weirdo and didn't have a problem with that thought. With tha.. more..Writing
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