THE GOOD, The Bad, and the worthless
I live in silence, because everything I say is used against me. I'm a prisoner inside the rugged bars of my own DNA. It never seems to weaken, even though this forsaken desert it lays on has melted into glass from the sun's unforgiving rays.
Rather, its bars become increasingly impenetrable. Almost as though it is waiting for the day I perish, to watch my ashes be blown away. Gradually my cell sinks into this transparent ocean of molten glass, its depth unknown.
And I too, descend with it.
Screaming for help brings no rescuers to my aid, except for the explosive voices of my inner demons, who advise me to keep my lips sealed. Or dare be marked with a target, painted with my own blood.
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