𝘼𝙄𝙈 𝙐𝙍 𝙃𝙀𝘼𝙍𝙏 𝘼𝙏 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙎𝙆𝙔.

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my eyes are broken windows to a dilapidated house of which no one knows it's whereabouts - i am a recluse. my eyelids are curtains of your face - it's why i drink bourbon to erase and with each sip that i take my throat becomes a roaring fireplace. my skin is wallpaper of your fingerprints - each skin cell a remnant that i can't rinse but no one believes this kind of evidence.

i am deranged - i can't be tamed or contained. i scream at dull walls - they say this is what happens when an angel falls. i sit in bed although i'd rather be dead and they watch me. my voice echos and carries - i howl at the clock on the wall and my hands shake from alcohol withdrawal. i sway back and forth like a blade of grass under their magnifying glass - i hate it here. they say i'm "much too pretty to be there" they refuse to give a fuck about my nightmares and the florescent lighting reveals each scar on my flesh but between me and the man sitting next to me they make it a 'who wore it best' and none of my demons are even addressed.

they caught me and caged me. now, i'm screaming at cold walls and pacing. they lock the door - these thoughts and i cannot escape. i check under my bed for monsters - i find a mirror instead. i swallow pills under fluorescent lighting and these tears are now making me a storm.

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