The lines hold back grey matter bars of hate
Paragraphs are the chains that hold them back
Vowel and consonants
Create a multitude of traps
Combining to create miracles
And this pen is the warden that controls it all
All to manage the dark side of myself
It has self-harm hands
You can see the bruises it causes
Insecure legs
Keeping me stuck
Unmoved, legs saying you are not good enough
This pen created a paper prison
And these words are my depressions jail sentence
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