Corrupt

Depression sets in like a heavy fog,
Weighing me down.
Sorrow hits like a wall,
at 40 miles an hour,
And I sit.
I sit and I know,
I know that nothing can touch me,
But it doesn’t stop me from feeling,
I still feel them,
Their caress,
Long boney fingers,
Creeping,
Down my spine,
Touching deep within my core.
Corrupting.
Crippling
Rotting.

-AH

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