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Voices (in the P.M.)

Inhale,
Narrow bony finger uncurl
daggers fastened to each point
creeping across her shoulder
they wrap around her flesh
Merging their existences.
T
Inhale,
her silent screams echo, surrounding her
she struggles to separate herself
trapped with this unfamiliarity.

SLAM.
Oxygen seems to evaporate.
Can't breathe.
Can't...brea...the
...Can't....breathe....
Her mind is not her own
her screams are not her own
they explode, bursting from the grave of her thoughts.

Inhale,
her existence feels abruptly insignificant
time is paralyzed.

These voices are now hers
They weave into each thought
each movement
each beat of her heart

The taste of air is no longer appealing,
instead, she craves the flavour of spite.
Each whisper encourages her
molds her,
She rises with each one
and the stranger's claws
Once insurmountable,
Now tangible to the girl.

Her future determined,
she surrenders soundlessly,
welcoming this crowned elite.

Exhale,
The strings of darkness tug at her
each blink weighed with a thousand pounds
And as she slips away,
a smile carves its way into the king

He walks off,
in search of a new queen
to conquer

~ me

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