drowning in your own bed. I’ll make you spin and stumble until you’re seasick. You’re getting tired. I’m exhausting, aren’t I? Sorry. Can’t help it. I just love getting your blood pumping. Hear your pulse thunder in your ears. Watch your hands quake. Fumble your phone and watch the screen shatter, just like you. Feel your back ache as you hang your weary head between your knees. I want you to see me, hear me, taste, feel, and smell me. I’m the spinning room. I’m the shrieking alarm. I’m the bitter bile on your tongue, the thrum under your skin, and the odorous sweat in your pores. I’m the arms that hold you, tight and oppressive. I’m part of you. Always have been. Always will be. Get used to me, darling, because
I’m not going anywhere.
Cognition by Hannah Strong
NMC MAGAZINE
18
I’m the bitter bile on your tongue, the thrum under your skin
