suicide tw
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The house, dark--locked doors
behind which secrets floated.
My emotions were like poison
to me and all others.
Weak, debased,
I turned to a place
where no one judged;
and the sounds pale as if they come from water
so deep and heavy
that no words can reach.
and so too, the colors are reduced to murmurs,
reds to blues to greys;
but they linger,