Just wrote a poem

honey…

She stands
Mouth dry
With the bitter taste of iron in her mouth, as if she had just been sucking a cut as a child.

The nervous energy shooting through her veins.
The tingling
The goosebumps

The smile
In perceptively shining showing bravery and joy where there is none.

She is abnormally bright, from her darkness this place is there. She is not there
(but she is)

Sitting at the dentist is nothing,
Yet you cannot help your fear.

She quickens.
In a rush the waft of swimming pool smell fills her. As if she had been holding her nose and her breath too long

Her mouth opens
‘Honey…’