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Mar 2017
Void of emotion,
fake smiles ever so slowly become my nature.
Bones to pick, pick and pick away
leaving my wall nothing more than a pile of rubble.
tick
Conflicting thoughts
flicker and flutter searching for a way out.
Anger , hurt and melancholy
merge in the pit of my stomach and out comes anxiety.
tick
Laughter?
Who’s that?
Happiness?
A headstone to mark its existence.
tick
Enduringly awaiting
  the ...
   final ...
                  tick.
This is a poem taken from my Creative Writing portfolio 'Time is of the essence'
Shaniqua Johnson
Written by
Shaniqua Johnson
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