What Is Wrong?

I watched her for what seemed a decade, for what was a decade. I loved her and she loved me but not for the way I wanted her to. For many years, I’ve watched her grow, watched her laugh, wiped away her tears, and lavished her with gifts & endless affection. But she always replied with those sweet lies in her eyes, clearly tiring of my endeavour.

I stare as she grows. Looking at that despicable fiend, such a sick demon stands in front of me. Such a dark member looks in the mirror, and I look back at myself.

‘What is wrong with me,’ I ask.

‘Eyes away!’ I roar.

‘Could I not?’ I tempt.

‘No,’ I firmly told I.

My head falls, tears well, but they do not fall. I hold them back as she flies into my arms.

“How was your day?” I ask her, forcing myself into a new thought. She giggled, “It was ok, dad, but I don’t like my new teacher.”

I choke to summon a smile, while brushing the hair out of her eyes, “Let’s go home, mums got dinner on the stove,” I say.

‘Will you ever tell anyone about us?’ I ponder at myself.

‘I can’t,’ I growl.

‘You CAN’T hold out forever, WE will have her,’ He stabs me with words.

Speechless I grow, ‘Go away I beg.’

‘Silence of me is a silence of yourself,’ I laugh cruelly.

“I am not you, I am not a ‘we’,” I voice, with strange glares from her.

My head shakes in regret, in denial, I arrive with her at her mothers, I leave to my ale, my blessed poison, my beloved thought ending friend.

I gulp the drink ‘What am I, what is wrong with me?’ I ask.


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