Synthetic

Overwhelming self-loathing

debilitates and smears

a synthetic human

into a state of nothing.

Avoiding confrontation

she harms herself,

realising she is not

worthy of the words her

alter ego spews.

She loves

fiction too deeply

because she is not in it.

 

 

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Crossfire

Caught in the crossfire of someone else’s cruelty

She tiptoes up my spine, testing for weak points

“They hate you.” She whispers,

Devouring my faith with an angry smile

I thought I got over girls like her, decades ago

but it seems I’m infected, have not fully recovered

Maybe tomorrow, I’ll forget her, and myself.