April 28, 2009
It's cold and dark, so dark.
Darker than the darkest night.
I walk around looking for a door,
Or any opening so I can escape.
But I can't find anyway out.
I finally lie down on the hard, cold floor.
The only comfort I have is my tears.
Salty and warm, they somehow comfort me.
As I softly cry myself to sleep.
A part of me knows I'll never be truly free.

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