HIttade en dikt jag skrev till ENG C. Gillade den faktiskt.

She lives in the darkness,

bleeding more with every breath she takes.
Shear thought of thinking about thinking questions every step.
Even in the quietest room, riot of thoughts linger, people climbing walls.

It's like tasting colors, seeing sounds, a flow into the heart.
A no to it would be easy, a yes to hard. But if you weren't real, I would make you up.

Hands down, she welcomed the pain, she wanted to hurt.  
The loneliness was her own, in the end we're always selfish.

Show her the light.



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