Strange Moodsby Joanne Marisa Leowis like a small sharp rock piercing my consciousness lodged in my throat. It is a bitter taste in my mouth and an aching of my ribs. I want to tuck my knees under my chin and curl up into a tiny ball no bigger than the size of my clenched fist. For I feel a strange violence welling up inside of me, a blinding rage seething, restrained but ready to lash out, to tear people apart; slamming its fists into faces and crashing its weight into walls. |
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