I once knew a boy who questioned why i always shook like my insides were made of jello asked why i felt the need to let my hands be unreliable guns shaking as i tried to pull the trigger. I missed. X marked the spot and he was not the x that i was afraid of. He said i looked as if i was convulsing every time i was near him..he pondered on why there were fault lines etched into my thighs said maybe that's why i could never keep them together.
How do you explain that your brain is on overdrive and you cant help but let it take the wheel...and so i shake. Learned which drug would help the shaking go away. Too many hits and ill be a walking catastrophe crossed that one off the list. Once my hand gripped the box that warned me of cancer my insides shook less. I once knew a boy who constantly got on my case about how bad i shook but little did he know the fault lines were reason for the minor tremors in my knees and the tilt a whirl for my hands. I once met a girl whose hands out shook mine told me it was okay that these things happen and it wasn't my fault. Our lips trembled hands quivered knees buckled and the boy questioned why we were an abandoned house caving in on itself
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