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Lightheaded
November 18, 2021
I grip the counter,
My knuckles turn white,
Black spots swirl around in an endless ballet,
They twirl and leap as I lose my sight,
Nausea creeps up my throat like a villain stalking his prey,
I hold my head as my heart hammers with immense fright,
I let myself sink to the cool concrete floor,
The villain wins as I retch
Dark taking over, like a cold, clear night.
© Denise A., Marblehead, MA
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