The words hang on in the still air, crooked and clumsy.
Face down I trace patterns into the mattress.
Focus, breathing in, breathing out.
If I tried to move, I would break apart.
Liquid in these lungs spilling out of this open mouth.
Weighed down, sinking deeper and deeper.
These swirls and lines lifting, floating, whirling.
I hear nothing past the pulse pounding behind my ears.
Stronger, faster, it hums beneath this ivory skin.
Only if I could escape the hysterics that hide in my throat.
Bubble underneath the surface, threatening to convulse.
Quicker my breath comes, fighting past this ocean of uncertainty.
It stretches before me, I consider breaking the surface.
A clean cut on the smooth gray, deeper and deeper.
I take the plunge, and into this darkness I relax.
Comfortable, I stretch my legs, I pull these veins out by the roots.
Beating within my hand, I squeeze.
Familiarity overwhelms me, isn’t this what forever feels like?