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May 2017
A strange sensation crawls beneath my skin, it's not something I've known before.
A claustrophobia that equates to a 1 by 1 concrete box. No windows.
A paranoia as vicious as a horror-movie induced glance around a familiar room.

Fire-breathing dragons soar through my nights, setting ablaze our days.
Our perfect, storybook romance, too perfect.

Flesh wounds that never healed.
Septic bandages tight around my ears.

Imprisoning his poison dripping words inside my head, like the parasitic maggot he was, they bore deeper into my sanity.

His monsters in my head won't let you in. Their screams drown out the reality of your safety.

How I feel is on the tip of my tongue, cowering behind heaving ribs.
Vulnerable.
Amanda Francis
Written by
Amanda Francis
537
   Nick Feetchi
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