I don't know how to start this. sitting, trapped in a corner. Surrounded. surrounded and suffocated by clouded and spotted glass. not the white spots from a shaken tooth brush or missed windex. but the spots from something long forsaken.
a glass coffin. 4 inches thick, as dry as the sand in this desert you call a reality. how terribly tempting it is to kick violently and scream in all directions in an attempt to shatter these walls. but I sit. I'm quiet. I breathe, and I exhale with no purpose or meaning.
but soon I'm not the only one flooding this cage. soon my feet are the first to meet this new visitor.
as the day lurches on and the bright radiant sun makes its pilgrimage across the clouded sky, the tank is swimming.
& I'm beginning to do the same.
not drowning, but sitting. quietly. breathing in, and exhaling.
all the while a cold and dark wave crawls over my spine, and creeps over my shoulders. wraps and surrounds me like a blanket. warm. secure.
and as the sun goes down, the tank is full. the tank is full, just like my lungs. this is the only certainty I've ever had. and I'm in this coffin.
I'm staying alive in the pitch black. eyes cascaded with nothing but personal thoughts, and spots on the glass.
and so I sit, quietly. breathing in and exhaling with no purpose.
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