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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required These next _ minutes are going to be hard... I open my eyes Not sure what time it is, but I bet I can guess. The drugs never work for more than 2 hours, and the distress from the pressure in my head and throat has been suppressing more than 2 hours of sleep a night for months now - even with the drugs. They have me on about 20 now, and I've cycled through about 20 more. None of them do a dang thing. Dang I feel wrecked They suspect my nervous system has been effected and is now defected in some way. My body can't regulate itself anymore, which is why I'm constantly on fire Always on fire Burning from the inside out. You'd think I'd be checked out by now, but no. I'm still very much here, though every cell in my body is screaming at me not to be, trapped in the cell it created with its own hands. That was back in June. It's now December. I can't remember the last time I was hungry. They say this feeding tube is keeping me alive, but I can't live another moment with these knives in my throat, and the way each muscle seems to rip open each time I swallow... I hear the harrowing sound of the pump that never leaves more than 3 feet from my body - always playing. I wonder if the sound will always resound in my memory, triggering the same terror raging through my blood now Too terrified to move just to check the time. I mentally store all the strength I have, and, with a painful pace, slowly look at my phone Crap To be continued...
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