Waking up. Dead to new beginnings.
You crawl under sheets with disbelief that
you're just a shell of what once was & now left broken.
Waking up. A ghost disguised as living flesh.
You pace the four corners & analyze the prison
you've created for yourself.
You're an artist. Disorder is the medium of choice.
Waking up. You listen to the jolly yet sinister chimes of chains
that follow the frantic beat of your steps.
A dance of death that ends with the applause & adjulation of no one.
Waking up. The blinds are left unopen.
Hiding the naked truth your body will most definitely reveal.
For now, you are safe. But know, inevitably must immerse yourself with the masses.
Waking up...
Long breaths...
Readjust your mask...
Open the door...
Good morning.
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