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“My head hurts”

It’s bursting with the past whilst blinding the present

“My eyes are impaired”

Burning with the agony of convulsive tears 

“My chest aches” 

Anguishing in the cascading waves of a million memories 

“My stomach cripples”

Contorting under the weight of incessant affliction

“My legs throb”

Relentlessly racing towards the past convinced it’s the future 

“My arms weaken”

Under the strain of prolonged toxicity 

“My back Stings”

Under bearing the weight of malicious souvenirs 

I hurt. I’m falling 

apart. They ask if I want Paracetamol…

But paracetamol can’t fix 

a broken heart. 

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Lyrica Wilsdon

About the Author: Lyrica Wilsdon

English student and aspirational writer Also follow on Facebook - Lyrica Wilsdon Insta - writerwithwords

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