But what if those people in my head are sometimes you, mirrored?
What if I can't survive without your voice, even if all that escapes from your mouth are taunts & jeers?
If you hadn't forgotten that art was pain, I wouldn't have had to convince you that I needed this & I needed you.
You can hide yourself in your cubicle, behind your desk. Just know that for every hour you spend there, I spend three walled inside of my head.