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Death
Though the world
just beyond the darkness
in which the girl was
curled up was unreachable,
she often wondered
how to escape the evil heart
of such a monster.
How terrible it is to live in-
to be trapped in-
the chamber of someone
whose face is never seen,
whose voice is never heard.
She shoved herself deeper
into her corner,
trying desperately to peer
through the thick black ink,
half-praying that she
could meet the monster,
half-praying that it
would keep its distance.
There was complete silence
from the other side
of the door.
It was a new, strange silence,
though, and she knew
that it was time.
She held her breath,
the door creaked open, and
the monster silently slipped in.
poem
by
Zoe Guillory
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