Disha Shree

February 3, 2007- India
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Felt like the ghost in the world of paper dolls,
More even like the ghost in my own machine,
I was the ghost running through time and space,
And the world became a noise, a distraction to be in.

People being the fragment of fire, barely a cinder,
It never mattered because I was the gasoline,
Soul was silent, chill in my blood,
Coldness bringing the synapses of my brain to a stand still.

Now the time is for me to suffer,
The world teases me as if I was the goddamn duffer,
I sat wishing, when the angel would come get me,
But the road to heaven felt more like hell.

They say, you are worthless, you are disposable,
No fight left in me, just enough to nod, and agree,
I cried on the floor, shaking from the pain that bled from my bones,
Nothing to subside my hollow soul, creeping in the shadows.

Even now, the emptiness in always there,
Nothing's changed, because no one would care,
The emptiness in deep in my soul, in my bones,
But hey, don't worry monster, there's one sleeping right above you.
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