Published October 29, 2013 by Amy Elizabeth
You sit with your back to every wall,
In an attempt to hide from their whispers,
And creeps.
You deny yourself the feeling.

You push against them,
And brick by disgusted brick,
You try to smash your way through.

But it’s solid. 

So you sit:
In the centre of a world,
That escapes you,
But from which you cannot escape.


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