I carved my way in between the walls of life, only to be removed. I had hope that fluttered like butterflies in the stomachs of young kids in love, but soon they were drowned. The metaphorically spelt truth rang out my heart and broke me into a million peices of glass. People stepped on me, jumped on my lungs, and stabbed me until i died. I was told i was free, but i'm sitting in a dark confined space, allowde to write letters that are never to be sent out. My loved ones are like still dolls, hanging from their nooses above my head, tonting me. I want, i need, i crave. I taste, i feel, i see, i cut. My abilities fade and i'm nothing more than a stupid note with scribbled apologies written in red ink. I am.... I am not.