Panic

The panic
Crawls back in,
A spurned
Lover with a
Hope complex.
Familiar kiss,
Numb tongue and Lips
All at once
A home and
Desolate.
Lungs
Are blades
Incisive and
Indelicate
Where desperate
Breath is
mercilessly
Bled
And each
Heartbeat
Becomes a
Blunt object.

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