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Rated: E · Prose · Drama · #1475699
Brief, unsettling thought.
        The skeleton in my closet collects me as earnestly as I complete him. He has no head, no face, no smile, but is most certainly content.
Sitting there - on his throne of air - he has no muscles left to move, no brains to think, no eyes to see, but I see him and know I'm losing my mind.
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