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Seeing Red
A SLAP, warming my skin
But chilling me to the bone.
A shout, a scream...
And then Silence...
And somehow the silence is worse
Because then I don’t know
What’s coming next.
Darkness and I am blind,
Blood drips down my face
But the blood is not nearly so bad as the tears.
It’s like a wall,
A mental block
That has imprinted itself into my mind
And won’t go away
Until I fight back.
But I can’t fight back,
I won’t fight back,
I won’t be like them,
Living life in a paintbox
But only seeing red.
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I am praying for your friend.