Tuesday, September 4, 2012

bluntly put, the anxiety is going to get me killed.

And cliches tickle my nose-- 
thin, dusty, beautiful, 
butterfly-winged cliches,
that have swirled about my stomach
and brushed my heart 
with hurried, unbearable flitting.

See, this is a stupid metaphor. 
And I'd really like to sneeze all these fucked up feelings out.

I'd just really like to feel steady again.

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