The first gasp for air,
it wasn’t you holding me
as we danced under stars
It was my heart
under attack.
The sweet coppery blood
that pooled on my tongue
as I cried out in pain
so only the
dead could hear.
I used to meet my emotions with pure fire. I would stuff down the pain, the terror, the worry, the anguish and anxiety. I would sweep it to ...
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