***
My bed is a black hole I cannot climb out of, and I lie there, listening to the air writhe its way through my lungs. Each breath is painful and unwanted.
She sits beside me, on an old rocking chair, and encourages me to embrace the feeling. "It's okay," she repeats in a gentle lull, her words winding their way into my head, burning into my brain. I take it to be the truth. That everything I do and feel is normal and acceptable. That it is healthy.
The principle is ingrained in the core of my being, and becomes the anchor that sinks me further into an ocean of my worst despairs.
YOU ARE READING
Drifter
ContoThere is no greater predator than the human mind. *** A series of conversations between a person and a manifestation of her psychological demons. *#790 in short story 11/02/17*
