Grim

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Dear reader.

My emotional emptiness has

Pierced through my flesh

And deep within me,

I feel hollow.

It’s an uncomfortable void

That pushes me to eat on what the world offers,

And yet I am not filled.

But I am the more hollow.

My mind screams at me

As my inner voice tries to comfort me.

I find myself lost and confused,

Becoming delusional as I fear sleep.

Because I keep hearing,

 Traditional African drums playing

Chantings and wicked screams

As my soul is being pulled out

By a mere mention of my name.

Wrestling to get back in my body,

For the fear of being sacrificed

Or forcefully joining a cult.

If I ever open up,

Wont I be judged as insane?

Or called an attention seeker?

Maybe you think it’s my imagination

Or something I read or watched,

But look into my soul

And watch my insanity as your fiction becomes my reality!

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