When will I be Free?

Sitting in the dark,

The eerie silence

The empty space.

No light escaping from the bottom

Of the locked door.

  I sit, my make-up staining my pale cheeks

In the farthest corner

Pulled inward as far as I can

I feel a thread away from insanity.

Clawing, pleading, determinded

My demons desperate to wound me farther

To deepen the scars on  my wrists

There is no key,

Made of Brass, Iron, Steel or Copper

Their screams are endless

I cover my ears from their words.

Frantic eyes scanning the room.

I wish they would give up

yet they persist.

How long will they drive me deeper

Into the Darkness

How long until they find the key?

When will I be free?

The End

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