Empty room

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They check your wrists

But not your thighs

They hear your laugh

But not your cry

They see smiles

But its all empty

They see a model

But not the blood stained tiles

They read your writing very clear

But do they sense all your fear?

They feel acceptance

But you just feel weird

An outcast

Alone

No one here

Just me myself and the darknessWhere stories live. Discover now