Composure

Fri, 05/10/2013 - 00:30 -- Mozog15

Location

02125
United States
42° 18' 56.6496" N, 71° 3' 9.8928" W

Blood pumping through shallow veins,

each cell pushing, causing vibrations throughout the body.
Short breaths and blurry vision,

floating spots of black block out any connection to my surroundings.
Dizziness and pressure impair my ears,
stumbling with no reassuring ground beneath.

I can feel no one here.

Silence, emptiness.

They say you should close your eyes.
“You should breathe deep.”

They say you should stop crying.
“Stop crying already.”

They say you should gather your wits.
“Calm down, mind over matter.”

They say you should get a hold of yourself.

“Stop shaking.”
Above all they say you shouldn’t panic.
I panic.

Senseless fear grips me.
It spreads like a poison.
My limbs weighed down, as if of lead,

 move, shakily and unsure.

I want to shut my eyes but fear

they will not reopen.

I fight the choking heaviness

 constricting my chest

 But I lose.

“Why, why, why” in whispers.

 “Because you’re weak.”
“Aaaaium.”

 “Powerless in the pain, aren’t you?”

Tears fill my eyes to the brim.

“Again?”

I am on my knees now.

 “Raaaah, come on. Get up!”
And I do, fixing my face on the way.
Sigh.
Whispering “why, why, why.”



I pick up a shovel and stab deep into the hard earth.

Muscles rippling, grip tightening

I make a pile of dirt off to the side.
My tears have mixed with sweat, my feelings subside slowly.

Again I stab, the ground softening under my violent motion.

Again my muscles work, shaking, and I keep my grasp on the handle,
my knuckles white, my palms blistered and red.

I want to stop. I forgot why I was digging.

The hole becomes deeper, the dirt pile grows larger.

A rush of adrenaline surges through me now.

I’m finished.

I begin to undo the process, kicking at the pile

 stabbing it, knocking it into the emptiness.
It swallows itself down, covered up
With barely a scar indicating the change.

My mouth is dry.
I gulp down nothingness.
It reassures me.

With my dirt covered arms I lift the shovel and carefully store it away

 for another time.

Clearing my mind, I stand.

There is a stream off to the side.
wash myself off as best I can.
I have no appetite so I quench my thirst.

And I grab the keys on my way out.

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