A bullet

I whine about my petty anxieties, anxieties grown from my failures by the way. Somewhere, somebody pulls the trigger of a firearm. A bullet enters flesh, changing the life of not one person but many. I expect you to love me all the same even though my memory flaunts itself callous and convenient.

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Published in: on June 2, 2008 at 3:37 pm  Leave a Comment  

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