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nicoleinacoma's journal
You make me feel sick.
Not in an "I hate you and you disgust me" kind of way. Not even in a "You make me nervous" kind of way. I just feel...off. Wrong. Unbalanced. Like I've been tipped off kilter. Like there's magnets pulling me in a million different directions. Whenever I think of you. Or whenever I'm around you. Whenever someone says your name. When I see that picture I forget I have of you. Its like my stomach and lungs are rising up and trying to escape my body. You are always waiting at the back of my throat. My musles twitch and my tongue swells and I feel like I'm having an anxiety attack. I get pins and needles everywhere and I can't control my fingers or my lips.
I'm not that girl.
I've never been that girl.
I don't want to be that girl.
Powerful beyond all measure.
I remember when I used to be fearless.
Rip my guts out for anyone who would listen.
Now I’m peeking round corners
Jumping at shadows
Holding on for dear life.
But I never have nightmares anymore.
There’s spiders in the keys
Snakes biting at our ankles
Feel it rush and then sink
A miscarriage of sleep and mischief
Dancing through blood behind the curtains
We’re touching all the things we’re not supposed to think about.
It moves to the rhythm of panic
Swelling
Contracting
Until its fit to burst
Through the rib cage and sternum
Obliterating the spine
Shards of bone litter the floor
Fragments embedded in walls
Blood in the water
I'm simply dust and fingerprints and stains now
Existing purely in nostalgia
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