Fists —
Something in my fists
I punch out with it
I can feel it leaving me
Like a bright flowing stream
Of light and negativity
This stale, blocked chi
Thank you for leaving me
Grounding, turning to nothing
Disappearing
Categorised as: Blogs
Bloodstains and deep scratches (perhaps made by an axe) mar the walls.
Something in my fists
I punch out with it
I can feel it leaving me
Like a bright flowing stream
Of light and negativity
This stale, blocked chi
Thank you for leaving me
Grounding, turning to nothing
Disappearing
Categorised as: Blogs
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