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it feels like every dark thing all at once, like a sadistic parasite lurking in the corners of my mind, like some quiet thing that wants me dead, like a quaking starting at my head and slowly working it’s way down to my hands. the hands that always shake, too timid to ask for help, too quick to cover up. let’s add another thing and another and another to everything that made me quake, or ache, let’s add another thing to my wrist.