The smoke in my throat gets denser
the fog thickens
the noise deepens
my hair coils around my face
I cant breathe
or see
or hear
There is noone else here
just me floating
face up on
the lake of my dreams
the bloody crimson lake of my death
Weeds ensnare my wrists
my ankles
my long loose hair
splayed around my pale white face
Medusa is finally dead.
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