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This residence is haunted By no one but myself. My room; a silent kingdom; Yet is prison, and is hell. Still-life inside a chrysalis; My own skin forms a crypt. The struggle to break free Entombs me further yet. It’s not that I am scared Of the worlds’ one thousand things - I’m scared that I will free myself To find I have no wings.
0
Jun 30, 2019
Jun 30, 2019 at 8:31 AM UTC
Still Life
This residence is haunted By no one but myself. My room; a silent kingdom; Yet is prison, and is hell. Still-life inside a chrysalis; My own skin forms a crypt. The struggle to break free Entombs me further yet. It’s not that I am scared Of the worlds’ one thousand things - I’m scared that I will free myself To find I have no wings.
obsidianeyes
Written by
29/M/Sydney
Jun 30, 2019
Jun 30, 2019 at 8:31 AM UTC
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