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Chapter Three Chapter Three Dolls are the eyes of thee child I awoke to bustling of plates and soft chatter. I turned my head slowly and there was a pounding behind my head, as if Baan Dar himself was jumping on my head. I blinked slowly as my eyes adjusted to the sunlight that poured softly into this small place. I sat up and pulled my long locks of red hair away from my sweaty skin and pulled the blankets away. I looked up to the strange patchwork o
ThoughtsSometimes I think there's a killer inside of meIt whispers in my ears telling me to cut myselfIt takes away my confidence by repeating the words of my motherThis killer screams in my mind telling me I am no goodThis angel inside of me whispers softly that's it not trueThe angel fights for my heart wanting me to believe, to hold on tighterThe killer tells me to cut, to hurt myself so that I can't see any of the pain I cause because of this bight fearThis fear who rips at my being Who's afraid of a raised hand my wayWho's scared that everyone will walk away Leaving me alone,
UntitledHave me lieSwirling in this darkEyes so blankNo hope in this dying lightHave me lieFalling, breakingSwirling in this darkMy soul is brightThe only way out . . .is the dark