Conversation with Cupid

"Thanks for shooting me"

Said no one

ever

I've learned to stay away when shots start flying

But always seem to show up just in time to be part of the wreckage

The barrel of the gun pressed tightly to my mind.

Life blew into me like a speeding bullet

It ricocheted off my body,

incinerated my self esteem,

pulverized my pride,

and ruptured my self worth upon exit.

Please,

Cupid.

If you decide to point your arrow in my direction

Aim directly for my heart

At least then it will be quick

Having no chance to mend

the damage left in its wake

Why?

from mere feet away?

After all my pleas!

Your arrow was shot directly into my spine

My limbs becoming numb

My eyes glazing over

Left only to feel my beating heart.