Stalker of Yourself

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I am who I am

no matter what you say.

You don't giva' damn

about my ways.

The ghost stalks,

yells and screams.

Your ears are locked

to the cursing stream.

I watch it cry,

you're hurting it.

Blind, why?

You need the light.

We make eye contact.

Soft wind whispers,

"It's an act.

He'll disaper."

Relief floods it face.

The stalkie is confused.

Well, it deserves

as the fool is a fooled.

Another is hanging,

this time more tightly.

Falling,

to wait patiently.

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