haunted by color

[I-0]

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It's getting worse.

It's getting worse it's getting worse it's getting worse

I think it's scratching at me?

I need to kill her.

Please believe me.

This isn't the end of it all. I know.

There's something else here.

Why isn't he here?

I can think when he's here.

It's clear when he's here.

He can understand.

I don't want to be this anymore.

The mirror's wrong.

There's wings under my skin, waiting to break free.

I need to fly.

Head won't stop spinning. In spirals, not circles.

Writing's harder, too.

I am not what she is.

maybe I should have

why does my blood keep scratching me