#2093

my mind’s a house full of hallways full of doors, etcetera etcetera, blah blah blah, you’ve heard this all before and so you already know how sometimes i go flying through like a poltergeist, tearing off picture frames and shattering mirrors, banging on the walls with my fisted hands, and other times i pace up and down the halls wailing like a banshee, pulling at my hair and rattling my chains, but nothing stirs, no one answers, it’s all just echoes down the corridor or in the empty rooms whose doors stand open wide ’cause they’ve got nothing to hide, after all there’s no one here to keep out or in, just me, just me to haunt this abandoned body

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