I am writing this to prove
I once lived in a world which didn’t understand
nor cared enough to find out…
Yes, I saw you at Quik-trip while I was getting a drink. You were one step behind me as I filled my drink and walked to the counter to pay. I ignored you, but you still followed me. Why? I know you hate me, so why are you fucking with me? Or is that why you are following me?... Because you hate me. As I sat in my car before leaving, I saw you stop and talk to her. You looked annoyed. That is why I don't talk to you. You seem bothered by little things like that. Still, I stared in your direction. I saw your cuffs and gun. I wondered which you would prefer to use on me. Tears filled the corners of my eyes because I knew which one I wanted you to use.
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