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Mind's Whip

Final blows

By Rowan Finley Published 2 years ago Updated 2 years ago 1 min read
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Photo by Paul Blenkhorn @SensoryArtHouse

The warm intoxicating taste of blood clung to the back of my throat as I gasped for air. Into space I continued to stare. This couldn't be my end. Would eternity's gate open unto me, or dare to humbly bend? Far too young to die! Thoughts cry. Slaughtered bodies lay close by my side, they promised to be my company. Oh, how my Past continued to whip my soul to the third degree. "I love you," I whispered now to all the people I never gave a second glance to and considered despicable. Why their faces swirled through my mind now, I found it terrifying and inexplicable.

surreal poetry
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About the Creator

Rowan Finley

Father. Academic Advisor. Musician. Writer. Aspiring licensed mental health counselor. My real name is Jesse Balogh.

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