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.