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imagine if your whole world was constantly shaking, it starts from your wrists till eventually you finger tips are uncontrolled and numb. 

that's constant, a never ending spiral of watching as my hands try and reach out for help but instead sit clasped in my lap cold and scared. every one is scared. so scared they forget that everyone else is too. 

so instead of sitting at an old piano i find myself balanced on a white, whicker chair holding my little spotty umbrella above my head. this is my umbrella, no one else knows that because they don't bother to look. instead they see tired eyes that contour my complexion or small beads of sweat that stick to my feeble baby hairs. 

unfortunately my umbrella is simply metaphorical, yet still its all that can protect me when the world is crashing. however, my umbrella is braking.  it happened so slowly i hardly noticed until the pain hit me all at once. 

i knew i'd have to say goodbye to my grey umbrella but who knew how long i could go before the rain froze my brittle bones. 



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