Sunday, November 21, 2010

Apostrophes in your emoticons.

Every hearbeat feels like I'm bouncing on a drum, slow motion.
My head hurts in my stomach.
I'm braced.
It all feels like I want to push the life out of me. Like I want to hold my breath, and somehow, my soul will slip from my pores, and I can still be alive but I don't have to be awake.
Things move.

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