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A disturbance in her mind
I want to find rest in my head, but the house creaks and a presence is felt. I turn and listen, I watch over my shoulder for the invisible threat, knowing I couldn't stop him even if he was there.
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But he's not here, and I am left to fear his shadow, residing in the corner of my eye. Frightened, of his footsteps stalking after me (that were never made.)
.stepped.
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Fear pushed away by the apathy. Can't be afraid all my life; I'll never live.
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So now for "sleep", for "dreams". Forced images of course. I'm never full asleep any more. If I let go, I'll dream. If I dream, I'll remember her. I'll remember what she meant to me and when I wake up, I will be more empty than before.
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It'll be awhile before I "sleep" of course. Brush my hair and look at my reflection. Admire. When there's no one else, I can feel a little beautiful; a working progress, at least. And though my hair is solid form my treatments and my eyes are blackened from the kohl, it's good. Because I look more like them, less like me. (Convention is a powerful thing, especially for those who don't fit in it.)
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So I'll retreat inside my head, it's busy but no loss. Dream of my angels, let them save me till morning. And then I'll long for the next night; when I can be with them again, safe and loved.
Safe and loved.
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-fine-