i stumbled home weeping cane in hand my mouth gone dry my brain turned to sand i had beaten the rats and it made me feel good till i rememebered i wasn't a hood couldn't i have left them alive asked my sister no, they were in the path of a twister and i felt big and strong at nine years old till i thought about what i had done felt like something less then mold i had destroyed something that wasn't mine to kill and what was bad about that was me pretending to be a killer i had just killed a pair of rats and i ran home avoiding everyone's gaze stumbling, crying straight to the pad in a daze and what i couldnt believe was that i was right i had killed that which couldn't kill me in the dead of night and i couldn't think which was worse my brain in the sands or that for the first time i had blood om my own hands
Reason for writing:
i killed a pair of rats with a cane when i was nine
Birth sign: Aries
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