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HR Beresford
Poems
Aug 2011
severe.
It was nowhere in sight;
I thought I was safe,
I took off my armor.
And then here it was again:
seizing my heart
like an iron fist.
Cold, freezing, merciless.
I choked on the torrents
of my own weeping;
gasping for sympathy,
in a room crowded with contempt.
My lungs, exhausted.
© wordswithmypulse
Written by
HR Beresford
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