Cahertymore

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: September 07, 2016

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Submitted: September 07, 2016

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Regurgitating.

Your words rise up like bile in my throat. Fighting back the tears as I try to swallow it back. The lump of you in my throat is choking, (or gagging) Restricting - My Breathing. * Tightening. Every organ in my entire body is being wrung out like a wet rag, (Drip drip) Squeezing and tightening. Twisting and pulsing - Under the pressure and weight of the lead brick you dropped on my chest when I hit the ground/fell to the ground. * I feel as though I am made of nuts and bolts, Pipes and screws, A Boiler. Most likely to erupt because I cannot take this FUCKING PRESSURE anymore. * But your not even here. The weight should be lifted.

Yet I still lie here/lie here still, Struggling like a worm wriggling hopelessly on a gravel path, Attempting to make its way to cleaner less tainted soil. * Time to heal. Time to feel. *I can't lie here helplessly forever. I'll have to die at some point. Or find my feet and limp my way over to cleaner soil.


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