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  • Writer's picturePostmaster General

Prisoner

Tell me, can you hear?

My nailbeds are raw, the blood on the wall is still not quite dry,

Tell me, can you hear?

The wallpaper is just starting to chip away

I have the entire wall to tear down

Tell me, can you hear?

You have made me a prisoner

I’ve been trying to escape the confines of my own mind.

I have been trying to escape the one place I used to love the most.

Tell me, can you hear?

My throat is scratched from all the screaming

I wonder if you can hear.

Can you?

You caged me in my mind.

Your sandpaper voice still makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up,

makes my blood boil,

makes my heart ache.

I hope you can hear.

Your scent is still stuck in my hair

The current from your fingers still radiates from my back

Air without your cologne, and I cannot breathe.

Your chiseled face shows no scars of me

How did you hide my splinters from your skin?

Here I am, screaming your name until my throat will let me

And then some more.

Do my howls haunt your dreams like your words haunt mine?

Are you stuck in your head too?

Wishing I was there to claw you out?

The wall is starting to chip away now.

I am still screaming, though not for long.

Tell me, can you hear?



Written By Under Investigation

Best submission- Flames- July 2020












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