Do you hear me?

Do you hear the ripping and tearing of my heart as you walk by? The noise my tears make streaming down my face?

Do you hear the face behind the mask grasping for help, asking to be freed, or the upside down smile I show to you everyday

Can you see the blood on my fingers, underneath my fingernails? The wood cutting into my skin leaving nothing but splinters and blood, but also the fact you’ve seen and heard nothing

Do you hear the voices?

Do you see where they are coming from? Better yet who they are coming from?

As you laugh at the voices and what they are saying, I need you to free me from this closed room where there are no open doors, the less trapped I would feel.