Room

15 Jul

I am frozen.
What I’ve chosen,
is to be dead
inside.

Things.
Give them all to me.
Pile them on,
One
on top
of the other.

More,
more things.
Stuff them inside
until there is
no
more
room.

Until there is
no room
to breath.
No space
to just be sad.
To be lonely.
To be mad.

No space
to be numb.
No space
to become
anything.

Only room to be
everything.

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