I Can't Breathe

Sometimes the body feels strange, heavy, lumpen, leaden, like it belongs to someone else.

I can't even breathe...

And I stare at this purple glitter that looks like it came from one of those three-dimensional pictures - a depth that goes on forever. I hate it. Why did I do it? Or why did that other spirit that took temporary possession of this body do it?

Not that I'm the old spirit. I'm another one. Another one that doesn't fit. I feel the accumulated sadnesses of this body. Everything jars. The space, the silence, the darkness, the misery spilling out into the sour stratosphere.

And I can't breathe...

And I lie curled up in bed in the middle of the day, worn out but not able to sleep. I close my eyes. Tight. I heave a deep sigh. Then another. Then another. Then another. Until I start weeping quietly. But not even that. Not even that lightens this terrible load on my chest.

And I can't breathe.

I can't breathe.

I can't breathe.

God help me, I can't breathe.