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a box.

a box.

a black box.

a simple black box.

a small simple black box.

a small simple black box is all it was.

a small simple black box that held the past.

a small simple black box that held the present.

a small simple black box that held the future.

a small simple black box that would determine my fate.

a small simple black box that held the world inside it's hinges.

and I was afraid.

afraid of what was inside.

Afraid of what it could be.

Afraid of what it could mean.

it's hinges scraped against one another.

it's hinges made an awful noise.

And I was afraid.

a white piece of paper.

a white piece of paper that crinkled as it was unfolded.

a white piece of paper that held all of my unanswered questions.

who am I?

why was I brought onto this earth?

why don't I know who they are?

they being ...

who I don't know.

a white piece of paper.

a white piece of paper that read:

she hated you.

she hated that you were coming into this world.

I didn't want you.

I wanted nothing to do with you.

this is who we are.

And below that piece of paper was a picture.

a picture of my real parents.

Who were rich.

Who were famous.

Who were celebrities.

Who, who fucking live down the street.

Who I see daily.

Who don't speak.

Who don't give a damn about the world around them.

And I was sad.

And I was hurt.

And I was angry.

all because of this stupid box.

a stupid small simple black box.

a stupid simple black box.

a stupid black box.

a stupid box.

a box.