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Room 192

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By Claudia Wysocky

I have gotten used to invisible hands.
    They held my gaze, whispered to me.
Like a phantom lover, they mesmerized me.
It has only been a short time since they touched me,
And yet I am certain I can feel them now.
I do not want to—I do.
    Soft steps approach me, whispering as they walk.
My fear burns my veins, chills my body. I try to flee, but I can't.
   Wings like storm clouds surround me—upon me—and I am drowning.
    —Ah!—What is this pain lurking within?
You reach up, press your lips to mine.
       The pain is gone. I bleed no more.
 —Only for a slight moment, does the cold embrace
Once more, leave me to cry.
On the ground,
 —Alone with sad thoughts
I run for cover
  Before someone sees me
—As I see you,
Staring from the dark
Your cold deathly stare
    Tangles my thoughts, blinds my eyes, blinds my eyes
While I lay here,
Slowly digging
A grave for my heart…
    —A perfect grave
     Among shoes and ties.
 Because you run.
From room 192.

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