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Oct 2012
It comes in waves
Trimmers
Shaking my ribs
Rattling-loose bone
Surfing the surface of my thought
Making breath shallow

It stutters
In the rhythm of my heart
Pulling at tendons
Leeching at the life found therein
Sputtering-spindling
Thumping
Flat-line

The thought of you leaving
Killing me every time
Short expression, of what I fear the most.
Emily Jones
Written by
Emily Jones  25/Cis/NORTH LITTLE ROCK AR
(25/Cis/NORTH LITTLE ROCK AR)   
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