Reader. Writer. Romantic.

Meeting you

The walls slowly closing in
I can feel the rough concrete against my body
I am Atlas
The burden of the world on me

A hand squeezes
My lungs contract
A muffled beating
My heart encased in a too small cavity
Constricted
Unable to break from its bonds

Dry
The parched roughness of a tongue dragged across the desert sand
Breaths come in gasps
Each sandy
Cutting the next short
Killing me slowly
But necessary

Prompt: The [sense] of [emotion] ie. The smell of happiness or the sound of love. The number of combinations are endless. The catch? The emotion cannot be mentioned and must be expressed using concrete terms.

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