I want to write, she said.

I want to dream, she cried

I want to love, she screamed

I want to live, she roared

But the shadows weren’t listening

And the lights were flickering

They couldn’t hear her pleas

Her begging

In that cold

Dark

Prison of a

Mind.

So she drew in

Blood

In

Bone

In

Tears

In

Broken glass

In

Dawns
Dusks

Midnights

Starlights

And she crafted

The most beautiful

Breath stealing

Heart thieving

Blood boiling

Stories in this

Pitiful

World.

And she

Made them

Listen