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ebs May 2015
I associate my mind with a prison. my lost and morbid thoughts are the inmates that were pure from the beginning but were quickly changed negatively by the events around them. they fight with each other continuously but are miraculously seperated by the security guards. the security guards are the people around me that are either oblivious to what's going on around inmates, or they are just trying to do their job, to shortly realize that there's no point in trying. the well known cafeteria food is what my thoughts feed off of, only enough for them to get through a day's worth of energy. the written letters that are exchanged between loved ones are the suicide notes that I've tried to perfect many times. though the visiting hours of my prison never closed, people never stay long enough to visit.
(e.h)

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