Another Terror

Sometimes I write terrible poetry to pass the time.

 

The words hit you,

imprinted on your mind

yet never sinking in.

Tears burn your face

as you retract from the world.

Diaphragm freezing.

Heart racing.

Stomach turning to stone as nauseau loiters,

curling your numb body tighter.

Thoughts racing-

a feeble attempt to comprehend

rejection.

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