The Outside Looking In

The blood from which I grew, the loins that shaped me together, are tearing me apart from the inside, out. Starting with my brain, making the way down to my lungs. I cannot think. I cannot breathe. People talk, but I cannot hear them.

I can see the Sun, the moon, and all the stars that light the world I used to live in. But I don’t live there anymore. My walls have sank in, my roof is caved. The doors are shut. The electricity has been cut off, but my phone still rings. I answer to screaming. “Hello? Who is it?” “It’s you.” I say to myself. And the screaming continues.

I lay in the dirt and close my eyes so that I can dream of before. For a second I swear I can almost feel the warmth. I open my eyes to a burning room. But I do not move.

I close my eyes and see nothing.

 

 

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