Wednesday, 11 February 2015

She looked like something I wanted

A thickness inside. A thick sludge. Uncomfortable and foreboding. Clinging at your insides. You try and dole it out to others to ease your pain. But it just keeps coming back, growing faster and faster, no matter how hard you attempt to bail it out. You struggle to breathe. Gasping. And then wonder why you bother to try and live at all. 

Your mind creeps toward the edge of everything. Tickling and toying with the idea of nothingness. Until the sludge begins receding. 

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