Heat Rush


i used to be warm.

i’m cold now.

fear is hot raging anger

coursing blood, flushed cheeks, sweaty hands,


settled is another kind of shaking.

it is shaking to counteract the icicles

jabbing their way

through my veins.

constant bouncing of a foot

a glazed expression of acceptance washed across my face.

i have been both and still am.

context changes me.

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