I'm a deer. Bullets tear through my back, my spine. I fall to the ground and I don't know who shot me. The first wound that hurts is the betrayal, the second is the shattered flesh; I know I won't be able to heal either of them. I struggle to turn, I look back, and I can only think of one thing: I wish you had shot me in the eyes, so I wouldn't have to see your guilt.
Poem by Sara Terrena Contains blood o____________o All art by me Cursive by me aswell Never drawn a deer in my life .-.
