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Boiling
The ball of hate in the pit of my stomach is constantly growing, gnawing at my insides. The pain makes my knees buckle and my heart beat quicken until it stops beating and starts humming right out of my chest, filling my ears with the sickening sound of silence. I don’t exist. Nobody hears my heart crying or my brain churning. No one understands what it feels like to be underwater, the water engulfing you until you are nothing but bones and a shadow. And even when you’re gone, the water still boils, hot and furious, all around where you used to stand.
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