She was warned that a collection of rice would weigh a lot. She shook her head and claimed nonsense while exhibiting the size of each grain. And her collection grew with marvelous and hideous grains of rice Until 9:30pm one Saturday, while she was sitting on a couch with loved ones, laughing at baseball And she knew, if she drew one more breath- She would implode. The bag would explode Millions, billions of grains would come spilling out of the wound. She ran Hyperventilated the whole way home- Not even home, dog sitting was more rice she picked up that week. Curled in a ball all night, counting the seconds until she could flee to her sanctuary- Retrieve her thread Sew the hole Hold onto the grain Every breath a dagger Every heart beat, a beat for a grain- The reason she has them to begin with