half way through hell,
the war's never over.
Faster than a bullet
Your love was like a bullet.
The bullet that never reached me
A bullet that never wounded me,
nor hit me hard like a wall.
Instead it aimed for my companion,
so it was fate that brought us here now.
Like people, bullets come in all shapes, colors , and sizes. They can be good or harmful.
I finally got the nerve to look at old poems I actively wrote during those painful times. I'm slowly revising them and sharing the ones I find most relevant.
One day the wounds will fully heal, but f...
Actions Cut Deeper Than Words
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