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Aug 2014
behind the locked door
in a steamy cloud of mist
i drag my finger down the mirror
writing your name
over and over
inconsistent, misshaped words
humidity conquering my breath,
making it feel impossible to respire
yet i do nothing to help myself

maybe i'll die in here.

in that moment
i felt nothing
only
utterly
pathetic

s.b.//
a poem written out of pain
silas
Written by
silas  21/M/lost in the dream
(21/M/lost in the dream)   
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