my saliva
tastes
like batteries
a sort of
charged
copper
numbing
my mouth
my heart
hammers
a bird in
a cage
by an open
window
as a
tornado
begins swirling
above
the same
as
the bird
a change in
atmospheric
pressure
in grinding
my hollowbones
to diamond
anxiety
criscrosses
my innocent
soulshatter
razorwire
for the
chicken soup
souless
there is no
reprieve
just this
ever tightening
stranglehold
on joy
“Chicken soup for soulless” – I hated the book when I was a teen.
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never read one of them, but the words played together
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