Challenge
What does worry feel like? Poetry or prose. Make it as honest, brutal, and painful as the truth.
Her Shadow
She smiles at me and whispers softly in my ear,
With such a gentle touch, she pulls me close,
And holds me there until there nothing else,
And as we sway, her soft skin becomes coarse,
And her grip becomes cold, so tightly wound,
I can't breathe. I can't think.
She's smiling still, a look of greed in those eyes,
As her fingertips press into my skin,
Like to she's ready to burst through the layers,
The world is a little darker, but no one else sees,
They rush around me in chaotic flurries,
I'm alone.
And there is nothing else, but this pain...
But this shadow that looms over me.
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