ArchiveJune 19, 2019

You sit there high up on your throne. In your room of darkness. Picking my life apart. Creating lists of choices not good enough. Negativity taking over. You shape your words into bullets. Stacking up your ammo. Guilt creeps in. You push it down. You turn it around. You look to me to blame. Ammo surrounds you. Animosity dripping from your brow. You pick up a word – a bullet. You aim it at...