i wish i could be
the voice,
the choice,
the relief.
he knows.
he's seen me,
he's consumed me,
he's almost captured me.
sometimes
he likes to tease me.
form my expressions
and mutilate my mind.
he laughs at them.
the victim,
the bystander,
the aid,
the medication,
the present moment,
and himself.
so when i try to help,
is it for her,
or for him?
KAMU SEDANG MEMBACA
bittersweet » poetry
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