Well, I've finally done it. I was published. This is a shorter version of "she", the contest I entered limited the number of lines available to each poet. I personally feel it has both gained a lost something in my editing. I hope you enjoy either or both versions of  this, it is my favorite of my early work.

she

She is the knife.
She slices deep.
She takes my life.
She cannot sleep.
 

She stares at me,
Hate in her eyes.
She wishes I,
Would simply die.

Her pain is real.
Her heart desires,
A love to feel.
Her soul expires.

In the mirror,
She sees nothing,
But her horror.
She is nothing.

Sinks horribly
In her depression
This she is me,
My self-expression
 

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