Tuesday 27 December 2011

The End of It All

Words, words,
You've taken my words.
You've ripped them from me
Hidden them away
Turned them against me.
MY words.

The poet's dead.
Her voice is stilled within me
Choked.
On your outpourings.
The words I'm drowning in.

Meaningless.
What does any of it mean?
Why, why, WHY bother writing?
The words don't fix a thing.

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