I feel your presence.

Inside me

And outside

fingers digging into my skin,

leaving burns and scratches.

I feel your presence.

When my breath comes short

But deep inside

Something drops

Don’t call them butterflies.

​

I feel your presence.

When my throat dries up

Quietening the pleads

Thoughts are locked

On ‘What if?’

​

I feel your presence.

Every now and then

When all is calm and in sync.

Nothing happens

And anxiety creates a new scene.

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