I wish I could keep my room tidy
That way you'd think of me not simply rotting
When you come for my things.
You'll never know, though,
How much time I spent gazing into the dark
With not a single
Midnight light not illuminating the limbo of my room.
My prison and my paradise
No senses other than hearing the faint cacophony of crickets outdoors.
I didn't know if I had hands
Maybe I don't want to.
Maybe I never did.
And in the emptiness of here
Please think of me
But forget me soon after.
And use my name when you grieve me
Not the one chained to legality
But the one that's mine
I'll miss everything, I always have
But I won't be sorry
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