The jacket I wear is egg shell white, and has buckles and straps on it.  The four walls of my bedroom are covered in padding, and I spend hours staring at my ceiling because there are no windows.  I have no music to listen to so I’m forced listening to the voices in my head, with the loudest one being the one that sounds like you.  The girl of my dreams has transformed into the ghost that haunts my nightmares.  My arms are restrained because the doctors are scared I’ll hurt myself.  Because I’m still picking up the pieces of my shattered heart to slit my wrists, hoping to feel something again.


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