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11h
A breath caught,
snagged on a jagged edge,
pure, white terror blooms,
a blinding fog.

Footsteps echo,
too loud,
everywhere, a frantic pulse,
a hummingbird trapped.

Panic, a cold fist
around the throat,
can't see, can't think,
just run. Where?
Doesn't matter, just away.
Blind.
bleedingink
Written by
bleedingink  F
(F)   
  89
     rick, Karen and Arna
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