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I let them sit and burn, in the dark., in the room where i slip away. The room is hot and i watch the bead of water stream down the wall, as I relax with the steaming water over my body. The steam seeping out of the crack of the door that locks me into the only place where I can get away from the stress, misery,and life itself.
I sit in the steaming water,with my hair in a messy bun, my wine glass in my right hand and my left knee bent close and personal to my body.
Letting the memories get to me, but also pushing them away, is a stronger battle then what I seem capable of. As the tears and steam from the water roll down my face, with my strong hand that isn't holding my wine glass I wipe the steam off.
I know when I get up out of the steaming water,wrap the cotton feeling material around my body, blow the burning candles out, and open the door, that once sealed me into the only place I felt eased, and safe at, reality will hit me in my face with a cold chilling breeze.

Although it's a perfectly fine, because I know I'm walking out, stronger than when I first walked in to the place where i slip away.

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