Claws
It feels like I've been running for hours.
Running from my past.
Running from 'it'.
That name.
When it crawls into my ears, a shiver runs up my spine.
I claw desperately at my skin, begging for some sort of solace.
All that's left is blood
smeared across my legs.
My scabs itch with the longing to peel them off again.
And again.
And again.
Again and again.
But I'll never be satisfied.
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