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May 2020
Fear is a wooden door,
That I like to open,
In my head, it's stored,
And the lock is broken,
I have never opened,
The door all the way,
Just a crack, hoping,
The other side will convey,
The smallest amount,
Of unneeded fear,
To race my heart without,
Death seeming near,
Sometimes, when I'm away,
The door starts to open,
A creepy creature may,
Try to arise unspoken,
An eerie specimen,
Creeping through the door,
Appearing as a vessel in,
The form of a *****,
A gilded demon,
The epitome of fear,
A panic attacking seeming,
To ever draw near,
Luckily, I'm in the mind,
So this **** can't hurt me,
I just have to wait blind,
Until this thing deserts me,
I start to wonder why,
I every peer in the first place,
At the other side,
When I know that my worst days,
Are full of things,
That show impending doom,
Cause that door brings,
Fear from a room,
Made of nothingness,
A chilling disgust,
But if I can't trust in this,
What can I trust?
When my mind is all,
That I've ever known,
How can the mental king,
Vacate his mental throne?
Sketcher
Written by
Sketcher  18/M/Blaine, Washington
(18/M/Blaine, Washington)   
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