The burning sun is awake
The hawks are awake
The demons are awake
The butterflies are awake. They are awake.
Darkness enshrines,
Rich, bright, darkness.
Confusion and dazed franticity.
Blinded and stumbling,
They breathe,
They are free.
I am suffocated.
Choking.
And no one,
Not even those who watched me swallow the air,
Hear me gasp.
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