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Specimen
You think I don't understand.
You analyze me as I
lay strewn on a cold, metal table
as your specimen.
You think I don't understand what you're doing.
But I do.
You want to know all lingering secrets
to have control over me
You think I don't see who you are.
I have your essence imprinted
on my now charred soul
it holds all my attention
and makes me cry dry tears that no one can see.
You think I don't know why.
You want to feel good
and powerful.
Perhaps you see a hint of a reflected image?
I see your pain and humility and guilty eyes
I have oceans in my heart, reflectinga moonless night.
You have empty viods that scream incoherently.
You think I don't know how to forgive.
Oh, how many times will you be wrong?
It is simply because of a reflected image
as you look at me
Simply because you have empty viods
Simply because you want control
that I can look at you and utter a solemn
"You are forgiven"
before you ensure I am no more,
but a tear,
on your stained steel table.
-11/7/10 11:30 pm
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sometimes the truth is too much.