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The opinions expressed in this article are the writer’s own and do not reflect the views of Her Campus.
This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Augustana chapter.

Cold air creeps in through the cracked window and I feel my heart drop— a pit opens up and does not erupt but slowly widens, the darkness consuming, and the wind is biting. Cold creeps in through the cracks in my heart and I feel a need for migration, as my eyes begin to sink into my skull and a pounding begins behind them. I sink into a tingling sensation.

My hands, my feet, sinking into the earth below me, my stomach soon to follow, sinking, drowning, scraping dirt walls and trying to claw my way out, I’m sorry. Tens of voices echo, rattle inside of my mind. Maybe he was the problem; maybe I’m part of the problem or maybe I cause problems, or maybe I just attract them. Maybe I need to leave, or maybe I need to stay here to protect, or maybe I will simply stay in bed and nurture the gnawing pit that has formed in the center of my being.

It bubbles with lava but does not boil over. Stagnation is a constant, of course; we are okay for now and will be okay for a little while longer. Cold creeps in to my fingers and toes, rings in the gold shot through my ears and my nose, breath crystallizes, I am buried and consumed, desperate to be changed and for all that surrounds me to stay the same. Echoes that mark my being crack my knees; I need something to set my body free.

This cold November morning, I lay on the floor and I do not weep like he did, do not curse like she did, do not comfort like they did. I lay and lay and lay until five long hours have passed and I’ve forgotten it all. But really, it’s not forgotten, simply set to the back of my mind. No longer do I hear his scared sobs or see their frantic scrambling, finding someone, anyone, who will understand and protect; none of them could. What could we do?

Cold air creeps in through the window and I sit in front of it and breathe in, then out, once, twice. Cold has been a grounding comfort for years, ever since I first watched that blank stare over a dark snowy night; contemplation tingling in my swollen fingers and toes and I breathe in once more, twice more, again and again. I will not let this breath be my last.

My name is Mak, and I go by they/them pronouns. I'm a part of the Augustana College class of 2027, and I'm a History/Sociology-Anthropology double major with a double minor in WGSS and Disability Studies. I'm your classic insufferable angry queer feminist poet with too many opinions and too much time on her hands. Give me any topic and I'll write up a little rant about it, no problem, though I occasionally struggle with speaking out loud. I absolutely love to write and draw and sing, and I know way too much information about the band Fall Out Boy. I don't necessarily believe in astrology, but I'll admit it's a hobby of mine (I'm a Leo sun, Cancer moon, and Capricorn rising). My main goal is to work towards a better, safer future, both on campus and out in the world, for *all* women and feminine-aligned individuals, as well as to examine, understand, and deconstruct the sociology of gender and patriarchy in our society today. I'm always open to discussion and constructive criticism of any and everything I write on here — no one is perfect, myself included. Just shoot me a message or find me on campus. Love and support to all!