From the pit of my stomach, I feel it. That dark,
bitter taste of envy. Frothing. Curling. I try to
expel it from my body, out, out – onto the
cold hard floor. But it fights back. Stays where
it made its home. Nestled in my windpipe, it
forces me to swallow it, again and again and
again. It is part of me. It is one with my mind, 
body and soul. No matter how hard I fight. 
It remains there still.

Published by Iliana Ike

Passionate creative who likes to explore different art forms for expression, awareness and healing

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