Poetry Sunday (?)

Fear is the tightest vice, squeezing
Whispers out of the screaming mind, crushing
Beauty and fragility, burying
Flowering joy under silent thunder.
Unrelated note: I have a million things to write, but for whatever reason a lack of motivation. I literally have ten drafts sitting waiting to be completed and posted. 

The above poem was once on of them. I wrote it years ago, and it is in no way indicative of my mood (which is "fat and sassy" thanks to Chuys). It's just something. Why not?

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