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by Viktor Tejada

Tell me,
am I hard to love?
For they only prance around
in the spirit of emptiness;
earning nothing but self-amusement
and the loss of opportunities
as years go by.

Tell me,
am I hard to love?
For we, the amalgamation
of one ghost,
two efforts,
and three nothings are
outliers
among our kin.
Bound by blood,
but not by thoughts,
actions,
words,
or even the slightest bit of interest.

Tell me,
am I hard to love?
For I, who walks
along the corridors
of dreams
wearing masks
of slightly varied
smiles
is penniless,
underperforming,
and hurting.

Tell me,
am I hard to love?
For I am turning my back on all
the answers that would save me
from all the suffering, loss,
and despair
I wish
to erase.

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