A Poem to All Who Suffer

That thing showed up again.
It came in the night.
I tried to fight it off.
With all my might.

It thumped and it pulsed.
It broke down every door.
I knew it was hopeless.
That thing had done this before.

Inside my head now.
My skull is its shell.
I don’t know how long it will be there.
That thing is my hell.

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