As the salty river rolls down my face, and the urge to hide my tears from anyone who might hear becomes overwhelming, my face feels paralyzed. My mouth quivers and shakes; I'm trying so hard not to cave in. It feels like a tornado has hit, leaving me with the urge to scream, but I have no voice. I wonder, is this what hell feels like? The world around me is moving, yet mine is stuck. My stomach feels as though it's been twisted with a wrench. I feel broken and lost, without any guidance. I'm consumed by guilt for my own pain, which I believed would bring me pleasure. I despise myself for thinking I could get more for less; after all, no one wants to pay for something that's less.
By: Denisha Wade (Nisha Starr the Poet)
Submitted: January 29, 2025
© Copyright 2025 Denisha E Wade. All rights reserved.
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Bert Broomberg
This was an interesting read; very intense stuff. Well done!
Thu, January 30th, 2025 2:26pmAuthor
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Thank you so much. ???? I appreciate your comment!
Thu, January 30th, 2025 12:13pm