CHANNILLO

I Disappear and Reappear At Random Intervals
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The ground under my feet has become unstable. 

I try to keep my balance but the picture keeps flipping. 

I feel its suction on my skin, in my hair, on my heart.

Pulling me into its void.

The normal has given way to the abnormal or old normal because of its insistence on returning. 

That black whole that I hate. 

When I am free from its grasp or think I am free.

I run, I dance, I laugh, I sing. 

Then once again I am fighting to breathe, it has stolen my peace, my joy, my poems.

Breath, breath and breath once more.

I will not cry.

I will get out of bed, I will put on clothes and leave the house.

Maybe go to work or not...

I try to use my fingernails to hold my ground but I already bit t...

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Series Info