like I used to

I can no longer swim in your storm

I can no longer swing my arms

like I used to

because of pain

I can feel myself decaying and soon

insects would readily appear

to lick on my wounds

.

I can no longer swing my arms

I can no longer close the wounds

like I used to

because of your pain

and if the insects would

plant eggs on my wound

and the storms would readily come

.

I would drown

.

I can no longer fend myself

lest to swing my arm

to fend you

from the insects

that lay eggs on my wound

like I used to

because of your pain..

.

.

.

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