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There is no comfort in being alone.
The wind sweeps desolate around the heart.
A gust of sadness brushes my face.
Preceding a torrent of blue that chills me tight.
A rush, so addictive it feeds the night,
Of the cold damp dreariness of this place

These prison walls are much too high.
A mind that is barred cannot escape,
Or sleep within this house of pain.
The dreary wind enters my bones
It shouts a whisper YOU'RE ALL ALONE!"
Water rushing down an empty drain.

Whispered (taunting): "I might say that I am insane but I won't because you know my name

The walls close in on a room so small,
Breathing gets harder in the face of the storm..
A blast of silence speaks of the devil to come,
As it rips and howls and tears and shreds!!
You might think that I approach this with dread..
As the chill gets colder on this abandoned run.

Whispered: "Adrenalin Junkie! Adrenalin Junkie!"
The old lady cackles in the back of the room , stirring coffee in her rocker with a mind bent spoon

It's too late for me now......
Can you please come soon?

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Tracy Corpe