Personal Prose pt.2

At last some peace,

All expectations of the world lifted from my shoulders.

Time to decompress and think.
But that peace turns to oppression,

The once calming quiet now a silent deadweight on my lungs.

The rot of doubt grows in my stomach,

Unable to stop thoughts of isolation shouting in the silence of my brain.
Time again to let company heal my wounds.

Time to distract my brain and the doubt in my stomach.

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