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Pin prick.

I am who I am. I write poetry and paint really badly. Please be patient.

A sudden rush

Cascading colours

It’s becoming clear

Sound is perfect

Unreal

Eyes watch me

I see them see me

Paranoia sets in

What do they want?

Memories returning

Truths uncovering

Penetrating, stinging

Crimson drop falls

The abys gapes wide

Numbness follows

The puncture wound remains.

Cuts reopen by sounds

Things in the distance

Running unseen

In shadows, hiding in corners.

Exhaustion takes my hand,

Leads me, runs me down.

Losing lights daily

They flee from

What I have become…

A beast…

Heartless, in pain

And afraid.

© 2019 Wendy Engela

Comments

BRENDA ARLEDGE from Washington Court House on July 11, 2019:

Running from things of the past, makes almost everything remind you of its presence.

Good write.

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