Eleven

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I feel my ancestors in different parts but not here only  quiet one in song of water

Whether it was a patient laughing or going ew not eleven sitting here

Or perhaps a number or i'd hear berserk

Which means stretch my limbs until they're nothing

I used to hear of my prophecy online

Whether it was from a patterned shoul as I'd go outside or be near these foes

I used to hear it as a joke

Or when I was harmed

Oh here's eleven

But then I heard it in serial killer content

Mother nature and Eleven

As if my isolation was a signal that everyone feels it in their bones the indifference and the spot light on them

I was very quiet in my first admission

I barely spoke

Was too nice at times

Sometimes though I remember the headaches would become unbearable because i'd find pin like stabs on my scalp

Maybe I was electrocuted or perhaps it was intentional

It eventually got to me

Growing up mostly an only child meant my signal was turned on more than a regular person to sexual assault

But there was this one woman who couldn't let me go

She would constantly talk about her time in Africa

And how there was a legend of elentiya and how she was going to save mankind

I honestly thought she was full of it

I've read that book not me , calling me a serial killer treat to end my life

I never told her though

Until one day the abuse got so bad I said she was bullshit

Everything she said was fucking weird and that she should ask someone her own age to hold her

I eventually found someone

Whether it was  or not i'm not really sure

There was this famous singer obsessed with him

In norge not outside of it

He was into slicing his victims on the side like food

was a scene from lotr when they're all sitting down together and talking nonsense after I started learning more norsk I noticed a shift

They were mad

But my ex stepdad said something even more interesting

There was a prophecy of a girl who had blonde hair and she changed during the season

And she would be in the cold or something like that

Its been a long time since i've seen him

Eventually it became a stranger things joke like mk ultra

Like I was designed to be violated

I was barely given paracetamol through the violence they projected me too

I was just seen as 11

A number perhaps they were big movie buffs like they said

Or maybe it was 11 pins or slashes on my skin

My younger self in psych wards should have registered some familiar faces to know me but they never mentioned it

I was left with unanswered questions about my past and Anabel

I could smell dead bodies before I went to lovinnberg hospital

I saw the holes in the side as air vents in my dreams

I smelled orange peels and saw doctors in my eye sockets

Going to bed

I saw a couple of them here

Treating me like an obsession or a disgusting thing

It caused me to freak out at times

They also treated me like a kid sometimes

It was odd of those villains my head

to show up so broadly outside my mind

I think im connected to many people in this one big universe

And it shows up in ways like sitting on a dark lit couch with food takeout out

Or going to someones court case and seeing it for what it was I was always there

saying black girl magic or perhaps astroprojection is a tunnel for you to see the truth about 

your destiny 

of why we crawl into loneliness and hide ourselves 

the shocks I got from my autoimmune disease whether it was injury/ill intent haunts me till this day

violence and electricity 

pulsing in my head 

perhaps thats what I saw that day on that metal cold bed 

being treated like a dead person or Frankensteins monster 

people wanted to prick me in places i'd walk

cause me shocks 

winters and summers looming in a hospital bed always being watched

jokes aside 

I think I was rather empty or emotions were in turmoil always feeling the pain of a walk

sometimes pins and needles whether it be from ex's or my meds 

it always circles on me 

the circle of life 

whether im capable of taking charge of my own century

it's currently 2024 

and eleven still gets used 

and those white teethed nurses are still cruel 

but they live on in every century 

causally nudging a war in the senses 

changing your intuition 

making you believe this is how good life gets

4 walls 

holding me still 

in my own hell

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