SenaRe

There’s darkness in this little corner that I sit in.  Here there is quiet, words aren’t spoken, they aren’t shouted, yelled or even breathed.  There are no words, there is just feeling here in this little corner.   My head feels light save for the pain above my right eye that pierces through skin, muscle, cartilage, bone and hair.   There’s a weight on my chest like a cement block sits there, squeezing the breath from my body and I think I can see it leave in puffs of white that swirls like wisps of smoke in the air.  But the weight feels worse somehow, like my torso is