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My Internal Apocolypse

I cough trying to regain my breath
Voice hoarse and hurting
Shaking and scared I drop
Down to my hands and knees
Trying to grasp onto reality
Grab onto any string of hope I can reach
The tender weave that binds them unraveling at my touch and slipping away
Trails of bitterness silently drip down, reluctantly
My lungs burn
The trails can't drop anymore
It's weak
It's not fair
I don't have the right
Air is crushed from my lungs
Collapsed and unable to refill
Pulse racing
A symphony of drums ring in synchronization
Whispers of lullabies long forgotten swarm
Sweet words with a sharp bite
Wash the medicine down with my saddened tears
Salt scrub down the hurt and the hate
Salt, free me
Down on my knees, salt free me

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