WHAT WAS MINE, WASN’T YOURS TO KEEP.

This world is mine. The colours are mine. I clasp at its melancholy tunes, each note between my fingers brought up to my ears. This light is mine; the bright luminous yellow in front of my eyes.

I stare at it.

I stared, and stared, and stared at it some more. I still don’t see anything- pitch black.

The world was mine, and I’m still in it.

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