Mine.

The room called ‘life’ with a door, whenever opened will be different.
Whilst a laptop is placed on a table in the corner of the room, as a means of vitual escape.
Photographs of friends and family stuck up upon the walls, reminding you that they are never truly there unless you want to be. Even then, would I risk them critising my world, in which layers upon layers of defence were built to protect me from harm. Trust, I needed to trust.

Negativities dyed the floor blacks to greys, in an intriguing pattern just tempting us to look and fall into depression. Some days we remain strong resisting the urge to look, other times we feel our feet sinking as we remember…

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