I saw the meat factory that was the IIT exam yesterday. To say that it shook me is an understatement. So many parents ready to throw away any semblance of a happy childhood just to ensure that their status is society remains. I could not help but see those children as individual sacks of meat, just awaiting a brand to be put on them so that parents could then show them proudly around. Is this what children are??
ink
Ink upon the darkness makes no marks at all. Scrabbling about in the shadows nails, bleeding, fall. Scratching at the doors to my own damnation, I call. Names of old, names forgotten, slithering, from my tongue, they fall. Fat, obese, they move upon the trails I've left behind. I beg them to stop, do not witness my thoughts, my crimes. But they continue, no heed paid at all. Those that came from the shadows eat me, my past. They eat it all. Slick with anxiety, I continue, appalled. Eaten, my fingers to the bone, I watch, enraptured, enthralled. This blood that erupts from my throat, leaves no marks, not even silence, upon these walls.
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