It

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It's back again and I hate It.

It's me but It's not. It's separate yet a part of me.

Are you lying to me?

Then why does It tell me the opposite of everything you tell me?

Are you the liar or is It?

It's consuming my thoughts, my brain, my heart, my identity...

Who even am I anymore?

I can't remember.

No, don't talk to me. Leave me alone.

Why, you ask?

Because I can't tell who's saying the truth.

Tears are running down my face. It hurts so much. Why can't It leave me alone?

No, don't reach for the phone. You know she doesn't actually care. She's just taking pity on you like all your other "friends."

Is that me talking or is It?

I can't escape. Help me, please. I want to leave. Anything so It will leave me alone.

You don't need help, It says. Can't you handle something on your own?

My phone is so close.

I know she'll pick up.

No, she won't, It says. Or if she does, she'll leave you on read. She has better things to do than talk with you. She actually has a life.

Shattered glass on the floor.

See? Now you can't contact anyone, It says satisfied. You can be alone like you're meant to be.

Blood on my hands.

Salty tears splashing on the tile.

Deathly quiet filling the air.

Silence except for It because It's always there.

Screaming and yelling but no one hears It except for me.

~ Crumb

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