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Christina Fox Jan 2014
It's difficult to slow down when your body's used to constant movement.
Speeding up takes less than slowing down.
But you try, oh God, how you try.
You tentatively take a deep, shuddering breath and suddenly you're spiralling
out of control.
Down you go, into the deepest depths of your soul.
All because you stopped to breathe.

When breathing leads to this, who would want to breathe?
Instead, you force your way ahead, not daring to look back or even around.
Eyes glued to the horizon,
you don't stumble or falter.
Roses race past in a blur of red and white.
Barely recognizable, how could you think to
stop and smell?
Christina Fox Jan 2014
She rides between light,
Slowly turning and dancing.
She shines through the cracks.
Christina Fox Jan 2014
Sick of food.
Sick of waiting.
Sick of boredom.
Sick of school.
Sick of people.
Sick of pain.
Sick of missing.
Sick of crying.
Sick of wishing, hoping, dreaming, dying.
Christina Fox Jan 2014
The scream inside me
Constantly rattles my ribs.
Can anyone hear?
Christina Fox Jan 2014
The scream inside me
Constantly rattles my ribs.
Can anyone hear?
Christina Fox Jan 2014
She takes a deep breath;
She's trying to calm her soul.
Air sticks in her throat.
Christina Fox Jan 2014
My low is so low,
The middle is elusive,
My high's: beyond me.
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