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Jan 2019
Ticking of the clock.
Incessant noise that hits the eardrum.
The room spins.
Will it ever stop?
Darkness, thick as mud
Oozing slowly, steadily.
It engulfs everything.
Falling into its black pit.
Every second of the plummet, an hour.
Suffocation creeps in.
Pinching.
Squeezing
Smothering.
No breath welcome here.
In this black hole.
This empty space.
This void.
Written by
B Elizabeth G  29/F/Pennsylvania
(29/F/Pennsylvania)   
251
   Fawn
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