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Mar 2015
She had skeletons tucked away in her closet so maybe that's why she grabbed onto the nearest spine. Maybe her step father made her shake until she fell and that's why she held my hand. Maybe he said "let's play a game", so she passed it down to me.
The way the sheets fluttered around my throat has left rings around my neck that I still stroke when I see my reflection. The way her laughter echoes in my ear has only made mine louder just to mellow it out.
I hear them in everyone. It's a set of ghosts that just won't leave my walls. They claw at my spine. They rip at my veins.
People wonder why I don't sleep, I don't sleep because they each scream in a different ear. One screams "you're worthless" and one screams "I'm almost done"
But they're never done. They never leave. They scratch and they bite and they moan and they cry.
So when will I stop crying? When will I stop blaming myself? When will I stop cutting my wrists to make them go away? Right now I'm thinking they are forever with me. The ghost in my walls. The reasons I rattle.
Naomi Sullivan
Written by
Naomi Sullivan  Portland, Or
(Portland, Or)   
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