My Weighted Shadow

Birds monotonously chirp and my window is scratched by a wind-rustled branch. The room is lit a lake stone grey and the television static drones. Staring up at the ceiling, my breath leaves me just seconds longer than usual Always seconds longer Panic hitches and I spring forward before catching my breath. Always. Seconds. Longer I'm a loop, a broken record losing breath and mental state. A couple days pass and I'm still on repeat. Have I eaten? Thoughts flicker and my phone buzzes. Do I need to use the bathroom? My roommate asks if I'm alright; she's the kinder of the three Will I ever be hungry again?...when is the last time I went outside or felt the mere ghost of sunlight through a sill on my skin? My body is nothing but a shell now, not even harboring a soul I can't feel though my heart and life desperately scream to But every time I try to get up, My weighted shadow keeps me down