It’s dangerous
Being vulnerable
Opening doors long since locked with keys rusted such that a quarter turn could shatter what little hope that was left
Squinting because retinas don’t remember what light is
A mirage exists because the brain no longer remembers how to interpret the information
So misleading
And yet lead by these errant thoughts
Spinning out of control and bouncing around the mental cavity
Playing pong between the ears
Ping
Pong
Ding
Dong
The witch is dead
But which is dead
Wincing from the strain in my head
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