It's about a time, I thought it was normal to go where I went. I thought this is how hearts beat. It's normal, in my palms, this heat. My outsides are icy cold, But my insides burn. I let out nervous laughs and pretend it's all right as my intestines churn. I thought we all felt it. The fear of speaking aloud. I thought it was normal to have over my head this perpetual dark cloud. Did I really not know? That this neverending pit in my stomach was not a general trait?
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