Panic Room

I wanted freedom.
And so, I am stuck- in a body that's dying, ripping apart piece by piece.

Surrounded by living, breathing nightmares, trapped in a red room that burns and crumples and bleeds until it goes black. I wear shredded black clothes, my bones broken and shattered, my fire drained by my gushing blood.

I wanted freedom.
But here, wanting freedom is the greatest crime of all.