The ghosts of my mind,
Are as vivid as the texts in your book.
The whispers in the corner of my head,
Are as evil as your storybook villain.
The images burning into my eyelids,
Are as real as the beautiful images you dream about.
So don’t you dare tell me
That my hell
Isn’t real.

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.