... makes you stronger
It ate at me. The sickness.
Wouldn't be here if it succeeded.
A tortured victim, my mind and body the jailor.
It watched on as I writhed in pain.
I thought I saw its smiling grin.
It ate at me. The sickness.
Maybe it was exactly what I needed?
To open my eyes, to see my failure.
I feel that I can stand again.
I think ... I think I smiled then.
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