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Rated: E · Poetry · Dark · #1892485
Even I'm not sure what this one's about...
I'm lonely and I'm trapped.
A prison where those who care
don't care
and those who love
bruise

and I stop believing in something else, something more.
This is all I have, so maybe this is all there is.
I want to get out, but where can I go?

I've forgotten things I saw
before they put up the walls.
To protect me from myself
they locked me up with no one else

And by now I'm sure there's no one listening
as I while away the night
with conversations to myself.

who can give me a chance to live, to breathe,
to feel the will to live?
whose hands can singe my skin
and with the pain revive me?

or is it up to me?
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