I wrote this a few days ago and I want some feedback and some ideas on it, and if anyone has any ideas of what I can add to it.
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Words swarming like bees
Stinging my heart
Tearing it apart
Chipping away at it
Piece by piece
Showing my soul that not all art can be sane.
The plot of the story was not for me to die
But for my veins to slowly decay-
And for one day-
I say,
"They were smart."
That's all I'll say,
The thing I'll never say,
"All lives start with a sting,"
I shout, only for the wind to hear
"Mine just wasn't in the gut."