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Dec 2017
I want to bash my head against a flat surface until the paint on the walls and matter of my brains are so indivisibly the same. Where I'm spread out so fine everyone can see me unconfined, unrenounced. Clearly, indecent and True. Liquids, and solids combined. Broken from the encasing of my skull. Impulses electrically, chemicaly controlled. Pleading for an exit, with a plan so bold. a I take a step to release, held back by a knot. Is it the end of the road. Or the beginning of a new plot?
Written by
One nut bob  19/M
(19/M)   
162
 
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