It's past the witching hour, and yet I remain haunted.
Haunted with what was and what has yet to be.
Who is this person I call me, and why am I so?
The furnace roars so loudly in the silence of the night.
The room confines me in its four walls.
My mind runs and it tells my body to do so too.
But it is late and cold outside.
Trapped.
Years and phases of a
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