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It is the ragged, dangerous breathing inside of Manhattan alleyways,
Threatening and heavy, its warm air creating moisture that sticks to my skin.
It is the chilling, slimy goosebumps that jolts across my skin as my look under my bed,
Searching for something that I cannot see and looking for something that is not there.
It is in the color of my clothes as I tug my sleeves lower against the brisk, biting wind,
Slipping smoothly between the creases in my cotton shirt that’s too innocent to hold it.
It is the look in my eyes as I stare down the barrel of a lethal weapon,
Challenging death to a blinking contest that’s absolutely impossible to win.
It is the determination I see in her eyes when she says that only one of us can live,
Lighting up with the flames of her anger because that’s just how much she hates me.
It is my unwavering calm that I glimpse reflected in her green eyes as I agree –
Only one person is going to leave this hell in one piece, but it won’t be her and it’s definitely not me.
It is the blood in my veins, quite literally, and the monster that claws at her lack of a heart,
Eating us both alive and devouring our souls because that is how it thrives.
It feeds off of pain and anger, hatred and grief, fragmented love and twisted suffering,
Leeching us dry of any kind of human empathy so that we’re both shells of people we could have been.
It has taken me hostage already, and I have little left to give it, unfortunately; I’ll have run my host duty.
Of course, it can’t possibly take her next and stick to her like a parasite because she’s already got one.
It sits inside of her, rummages through her mind and her heart, looking for the good and the bad,
Throwing out the good things like her ability to love and her capacity for compassion.
It leaves behind the terrible things like her insane need to shed blood and her twisted reasoning.
I know this without asking her what it’s done to her – I’ve been violated by it so many times already.
It has screwed up my insides, ripping a hole in my chest and tearing my heart out,
Leaving me alone on the ground to haphazardly put my own organs back inside of my body.
It knows that I would fail to properly fix myself, and it revels in my agonizing failure,
Taking pride in the fact that it’s ruined my ability to connect with people for the rest of my life.
It loves that I can’t even have friends without worrying that they’ll leave me for someone more pure,
Finding joy in the way that I end up pushing my own friends away because I think I’m saving them.
It knows what it’s done to both of us – scarred us forever with its kiss of death,
Leaving us to wish that that death came a little bit more instantaneous.
It turned my own sister against me – how screwed up is that?
I can’t escape it; she can’t, either; we both know that. I will die; she will live but be broken.
It will escape from this room, free and boundless, and search for another poor soul to inhabit.
One day, when I am long dead and she is trying to figure out how to live without my nemesis presence,
It will whisper in her ear, teasing and taunting her to remember it, and her heart will pause at its name.
I am Miwok by powerpoet Miwok Dancer
Hands in hands we rip apartFrom Sway With Me by Power Poet mailia.khan
This dark storm
Flow and wash away my darken shadow
Come with me up this stair
Awaiting ahead is warmth, trees, and shades of aqua
This soul, an everlasting, beautiful morningFrom I Choose Not to Understand, but to Embrace. by Power Poet justlive7
Shining bravely in the dark
Reaches out and draws us forward
Then reveals to us our hearts
doesn’t exist without