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She came in through the back door and was never seen again.  The emptiness swallowed her.  The only visible sign was the writing on the wall she left behind.  It read: My days were numbered.  My appetite for life drove me and now as I write this it devours me.  I leave behind me scattered glass.  Only glimpses of past shadows remain.
I am paralyzed at the mouth.
A foreboding I cannot escape.  Of late I look over my shoulder and wait for the inevitable.  I have been running far too long.  It caught up to me.  The pain knocks on my door.  I try to ignore.

The shouting and screaming
awakened my hibernating soul
It...
Wants to be recognized.
Wants to be felt.
Wants to be put to rest.

The final act-------> I've dreaded the day I would have to answer to these voices <-------

I am
drowning.  The time has come to answer each one of "them".  To forever silence them and let them rest in peace.  I have to immerse myself in the pain.  I have to feel it.  I want to be a survivor.  I won't let it beat me.  I won't let it be my shadow anymore.
But,

Facing the demons in the mirror was a terror wished upon no one.

I've sunk too deep.  The light was visible but not attainable.

I walked throught the back door and was never seen again.
Jessica Fogarty