Carrying the Beast Child
The weight is suffocating, dragging me down like I'm being strangled slowly, methodically, until the last bit of life drains from me.
My hands tremble violently, shaking with a cold rage and helpless fear. My shoulders convulse uncontrollably as if trying to shake off the memories clawing at me. Tears flood my face, hot and endless, carving channels through the grime and blood. My cracked lips part in desperate gasps, fighting for breath that won't come. Every inhale is ragged, shallow, like my lungs are collapsing under the pressure.
Bab Populer