she was weightless.
contained within four slabs of cement pulled together,
her mind wandering around the room on its own.
her tongue drowned in increments,
the number of lids originating from plastic captors at an exponential increase on the glass that waited, impatient & familiar.
smoke curled around her head as if it were spilling a secret, only it stayed in suspense
above the ground
that
seemed
to be
moving.
a trill beckoned her from Wonderland & she found a voice. a voice that always seemed too boisterous for her liking.
or, maybe, she was
only dreaming. but,
she wasn't. the next words were invisible but a burden, & she dreaded her decision to lose herself at 4 AM.
"I'm coming."
she lay there, heart concocting a billion ways to stop itself in the middle of a marathon before a face greeted her,
mouth full of poison & hands full of rage & anxiety. . .
About the Creator
Angel Davis
Author who loves writing in all genres of fiction & poetry.
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