My flaws are written
on a wall
My history is written
in a scrawl
Scratched with the
risings of a fall
Demons of my past are
breathing on my door
Reminding me to
revisit the pain of my past
As I hold tightly the
strings of my sanity
Felt in the stirring
of a storm.
The noises you make
startle me out of my skin.
The gods of lore poke
me in the ribs
I repress the risings
of a squeal
I am a resident of the
crowd
So humiliated by sound
Whisper to me the
secrets of my time
Tell me in my sacred
sleep
Tell me, how does my
story end?
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