DsSj

Your call. On one side, destruction. On the other, shallow mimicry and lies. And in between, an empty room With vast white walls cold to the touch for comfort. Your companions Silence, Dread, Fear looming growing overwhelming No one can hear your screams, my dear No one will tend to your wounds. Walking tall, keeping up appearances. A deep dark mass of mutilated flesh a speck of dust in a field of flowers. It would have been a beautiful day if you had but a heart to appreciate with. Back in the room this is your true self. Cheap disguises and bouts of anger nothing but attempts at feeling You can be whoever you want