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2002-11-21

panic

panic.

it's a little hand on my non-existant adams apple.

it's a constrictor wrapping itself around my lungs.

its the bottom falling out of my stomach and the anti crista wondering if she's going to fall out or if she magically knows how to float.

it's loss magnified.

it's weakness like sand kicked in the face while muscle man runs away with the girl.

it's . wait. while they yell ketchup.

it's the realizing that i'm pretending there's still a bottom or a foundation there. while the panic tells me what i know deep inside. someday. i have to open my eyes. and when i do. everything is going to change. that half truths are still half lies.

even when it's you telling them to yourself.


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