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A bullet wound to the heart is nothing compared to my
Shot with the revolver of emotion.
Lying still in the rain.

Killing for happiness in my life one more time.

Not in items of possession.
I won’t pay a dime.
With each strike my heart bleeds out more.
I feel the dripping of blood to my core.
A physical bullet will not kill me faster,
than the pain I have from this emotional disaster.
Alexis L. Thompson

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