Consumption

Unrequited

I was trapped in a box and I could not move.

My thoughts were vague and disordered.

A weight pressed on my chest,

Burning and sharp.

I could do nothing against it.

I could only know that it was,

And endure.

The silent hurting became more than could be borne.

There was a quiet,

A deep, tired quiet,

Where nothing existed,

But darkness,

Myself,

And my box.

I lay still inside it.