Eighty nine

No pain now. . .Only the faint taste of solitude.
Somebody brushes my shoulder, I can’t scream, the
air is thick with the vapours of my affliction

I’m sitting on the edge of a stone fountain,
trying to learn the words to these empty thoughts

You’ve locked me away, but you’re bound by my imprisonment

encased in this prism

for the sake of your fear

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