(The following is a prose piece)



By Allie Marie


I’m sitting here. My back’s against the wall. Here is just the place I am and nothing more. I can’t decipher the place or think of the name. My tears are blinding me. My brain is defying me. I don’t know much or maybe I don’t know anything at all.

I’ve been broken so many times before, but this time it seems final and secure. The darkness overcomes the light, except for one. It lingers on my hands. It sparkles.

Don’t ask me how I got here. Don’t ask me why I’ve come. I don’t know.  It just happened.

I’ve heard somewhere that’s there’s a cure for every disease imaginable. We just need to find it. That’s a lie. I’ve heard some cures cause hurt. So then is that really a cure? It’s all an illusion. Nothing’s real. It just cures, so you can’t see it anymore. The presence still remains.

Don’t cure me. Don’t fix me. I’m fine. I’ll be alright. I’m broken and the sky’s pitch black, but light lingers on my hands. I can still see.


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