I can't breathe anymore; there's a weight on my chest like a boulder. I'm numb, although my ribs are breaking. I can hear them crack, but I can't feel their splintered ends in my sides. I'm drowning; my thoughts consume me. They coat my throat like tar, sticky and black. They hold down my tongue, make it heavy like lead. I'm suffocating, hands around my neck, blue in the face, red in the lips, crack and dried up, a desert in the winter snow. I'm bleeding out, ruby staind, purple bruises. I'm singing an auria, a muffled hymn, a cry for help.