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Jun 3
It burnt my hand
My pale skin started to boil
Alike throwing my stretched fingertips through glass
Hot, fiery flashes charging through my spine
A sharp inhale through clenched teeth
Eyelids locked together
My knees buckle, the carpet burns
An all too familiar nauseating sensation
I can't look
What was I reaching for?
You're not there
Written by
pleblderblerbmerbcschrb  22/fatigue
(22/fatigue)   
110
   Jeremy Betts
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