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A poem
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My sensitive villain
You throw swords at me, and cry
When I call you names.
You pull out the guns
And weep that I love another.
You tear into another’s throat,
But I’m the villain who broke your heart.
You live in the limelight,
And cry, when I did my part
To give you more,
But I am sure
You’ll never forgive the past.
It must be hard to live with all that,
Fan clubs, and girls at your house.
You scream that you’re treated unfairly,
When you’re the princess,
And I’m the mouse.
It must be nice to be that close
To the man who was my steady.
Did you think of killing me when you held a sword in your hand,
And said you were ready?
It must be tough
To look like that,
To be worshipped and adored.
It must be tough to have your name
All over the billboard.
So go ahead,
Cry to me,
After your fling with many,
As I bled,
As I dreamt of suicide,
Over a dream lover who would never know me.
Go back to the girls
Who don’t know what they have
When they hold your hand.
They don’t have a clue
What it is to live
Without you, nor do they understand
What it is to long for love,
So distant, so far away.
What have I done to deserve to be so lonely?
Go ahead,
Break my heart,
As though I weren’t injured, already.
I didn’t know what it was to long for you before we met.
I lived in a cold, numb state of tension and unlived dreams
You sniffed out, like a bloodhound, the instant you looked at me.
“Another womanizer,” I thought, and rolled my eyes.
How many women were at your apartment?
I think the newspaper said, “several.”
Go ahead, tell me those lies.
Tell me that was different.
Tell me no man can do for me what you can do.
Tell me it’s innocent.
Go ahead,
“Insult my intelligence." *
Pretend I’m not armed.
It’s obvious what this is.