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A recorded reading of “Stitched Silence”. If the player does not load, use the original audio source.
Stitch up your throat, let the blood stay in, your crimson trails flood my home, my sin. Complain again, I’ll slice you once more— a dance of pain behind this locked door. What are you doing? There’s no escape, the key is lost, your wrists still chafe. The phone is dead, and so is my care, you can scream all you want, but I’m not there. Die now, please, fulfill my need, I crave the quiet, I crave to be freed. A twisted desire that haunts my mind, a darkness that consumes, leaving nothing behind. But in this rage, in this confined space, is it you I’ve trapped, or is it my own face? A reflection of torment, a cry for release, a plea to silence the chaos for peace.
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