personal blog: simon

back on the feeling of entrapment. I need change. I do so NEED change, like I need air. a colossal tree trunk pinning my chest, burying its snatched roots between my ribs, and I barely breathe.

the undone bed. Kevin’s cloths on the floor. I wish he has gone home last night. a moment for me to think, to breathe. his efforts to touch me, to be near me, to love me, only to grow a pit in my gut.

my room appears smaller. the air appears a little thicker. and my chest squeezed a little harder. the onset of suffocation.

keep everything collected. keep all my emotions frozen, yet the panic sets in and there is no more air. the day seems to lose its sun and shadows vanish into darkness. I’m not quite sure what it is that I fear. whether it’s the possibility that may be. what I may lose. or the feeling of being trapped. although, at the moment, continuous loop of one thought seems to imprison my mind. just breathe… and I’m still unable to scream.

for damn sakes… SCREAM!

like a trigger his voices pushes through to the frontal lobe.

“don’t be scared.” my father’s encouraging words as he dipped his hands to the water. “jump,” and with a light shove from my brother, I stumbled, and rather than a jump, I fell into the pool, sinking to the bottom.

and the only possible outcome at this instance is to fall flat face to the floor as the air’s completely sucked out of the room. the thing that remains in my recollection is the smoky stench of my father’s breath whispering to my ear, “good boy.”

♠

read more: ← saturday 07:13 ♦ saturday 08:14 →

© simon whittle — second act