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Desolate by Amanda Armstrong

I hate the way your cold dead eyes,
Stare straight down,
Into the unknown lands of my soul.
You peer into my mind,
Knowing all,
Understanding nothing.
You tear out my heart,
Cold and dead,
From my chest.
Your words cut into me like a razor blade.
You leave me to bleed.
Leave me to die alone.
Alone in life, Alone in death. The tears stream down my cheeks.
You make me nothing, Or maybe I already am...