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puddle
there's a puddle of mud on the floor. i look at it and feel bile rising on my throat. mud makes me sick. everything makes me sick. later on, there's a puddle of bile almost close to the puddle of mud. i feel sick yet again but i go away. from everything that makes me sick. everything makes me sick.
pins
pins and needles stop i feel a prick blood circulates it flows pins and needles i feel it coming the pain pins and needles pins and needles what do i have to do for me not to step on these pins and needles pins and needles any more pins and needles.
heartache
Love is a result of hormones from the brain. The heart can't feel anything. Why is it called heartache, then? Why not brainache? People should stop blaming the heart and start training the mind.
branches
These are the only thing I could hold on to. Branches. To keep me from falling to my death. To keep me fro falling to my end. I look down and gulp. If I fall, I;m surely to be in pieces, The branch creaks along with me. Is this my end? Funny how one day I couldn't pay attention to the thing that's now holding my life.