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Can’t describe how it feels
But I can say how it doesn’t feel
It’s not sharp
It’s not suffocating
It doesn’t burn
It doesn’t shrink my lungs
and make it hard to breathe
It’s not joy
It’s not exciting
There is no anticipation
Nothing to look forward to
No awe and amazement
There isn’t anything to make your heart flutter
Motion, yet motionless
Action, yet not productive in any way that provides satisfaction

Published in Poetry


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