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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Dark · #1469962
paranoia at its best
Excerpt from: With No Hands

-entitled-

Inner-visions Detailed by Paranoia


i used to walk around my city in peace.


drugs...

alienation...

i wandered down there...

where the larger ant lions lay.
and they did prey. on my skin.

so i did it...

i did the only thing i could do...

i didn't let them prey on my skin...




instead i turned into the infidel.
i turned into the lion.
i turned into the beast, the mutilated, and the abyss itself.


now here i lay.
no breath escapes.
when i look at people i can no longer have thoughts... only predictions.

i keep to myself.
i keep to the little people i have in my life.
i keep to myself.

where i used to walk, i now have to look over my shoulder.
where i used to play, i can no longer go.
who i used to talk to, i can no longer linger among.
who i used to love, i can no longer look upon.

i have told myself I'm being to irrational.
i have told myself to stop thinking like this, that it is bad for me.
i have told myself I'm being to irrational.


out loud.

to myself.

37 times.

in the mirror.

alone in my apartment.



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