Tuesday, April 5, 2016

Sistine

That inner calm
I used to know
That peace 
That confidence
Instantly
Reduced to ash
The bitter, acrid stench
Of lies and deceit 
Makes me vomit 
Over and over
Purging whatever feeling
I had left
I'm stranded here
No one
Could possibly want
The empty shell
This masterpiece you created 

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