Bullet
She flew recklessly with no real destination. No guarantee or expectation of ever being seen again. No emotion or thought behind her actions. Once she was set off, there was nothing left behind but a shell. A cold, empty shell of rejection and disownment. A shell that was once used to contain all that she ever was. Her emotions, thoughts, connections, happiness, sadness, relationships, wants, needs, failures, passions, pleasures, beliefs, all of her firsts, all of her favorites… everything. All it took was for someone to cause the explosion. All it took was one single pull of a trigger from the mind of another to end everything. One moment in time. One single second where someone wanted to use her, inducing destruction for their own agenda. She was a bullet in the night. Under the disguise of gunpowder and darkness, only to be seen in the seconds when the fire of the gun lit up the night. She dissolved into nothingness. All that she was just simply vanished at the expense of someone else.
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I especially enjoy the line “all that she was just simply vanished at the expense of someone else.” I also love the second stanza, how the speaker becomes something more eternal, if not parasitical.