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Jul 2017
A round black hard button pressed itself at the walls
of my stomach, churned and mixed a cocktail,
a shaking mass of temporary fight or flight. It was
not the menu I was hoping to greet this morning.

I sidled the park pathway in search of fresh air,
cramped from living with wooden emotions, without
release, not fit for sharing, let alone thinking second
by second, continually mocking like seagulls swirling

overhead spitting at the passers-by, grabbing at leftovers
in their wake. I soft footed the hard surface, heading
away from my mind, it followed; pulling punches.
The bike, quiet, sprung past, knocked at

my reverie and temporarily subjected me to the outside.
I hated that second; how it tripped me up, inviting itself.
I hadn’t asked, it hadn’t replied, it happened, I groaned
and felt the hard grind as the button pushed deeper.

The relentless gusty air clutched at my skin, spilling tears
onto my cheeks, catching at my silent lips. I did not draw
a hand up to scrub them clean, it wasn’t worth the effort,
almost daring them to be seen; for someone to look…..

help me…..
Laura Susan Smith
Written by
Laura Susan Smith  Warwickshire - England
(Warwickshire - England)   
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