I feel gutted.
I’ve never been able to put a name to it before but that’s what it is,
It’s a passive sensation, not the act of being gutted,
But the aftermath.
Hollowness below my rib cage and above my hip bones.
Phantom torso pains, twisted slowly like a wash rag,
Or wasting like hunger.
(As usual)
Like the cold seizes that leave you sore the next day.
Like I can feel my bellybutton touch my spine, but if I tried to touch it,
My hand would pass right through.
I feel like I’m split into two, but there’s no trauma.
Just the absence.
And in the wake, in the loss of my diaphragm and abdomen,
My heart sags.
Pulling at the skin of my chest, at the fascia of my lungs
And ribs
Falling into the hollowness until it’s
Exposed
Until it’s twisting too
Maybe it’s grotesque but that’s what it feels like
Walking
Standing
Driving
Laying down
Sitting
Just trying to exist
Deep breaths help sometimes, they flow big and expansive into the hollowness and just for a moment, fill it again
But then, the problem isn’t physical.
My waist is, in fact, intact.
It’s just that you can’t feel pain in the place that’s the problem, so it goes to the most
Vital
Place it can find.
And it settles there, inky black and expansive, until it’s taken over
And there’s nothing left
But empty space.
I wonder if I will ever feel full again.