Arnsenal

Like a thief, you break through the backdoor of my skull and creep into my mind.

Alarms blare, thoughts awaken, and a struggle begins.

Consciousness slips my grasp; for the gun was aimed, and I had fired.

But what I did not know, this home was never mine, and you are no thief.

I am the robber whose thoughts were the weapon and words the bullets,

And an attempt to shoot you down, I fatally wounded me.

—O. D. M

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