I need to move. The body doesn’t respond. My body.
I am not in control of this.
My body.
A cracking blur it sends parts of me -farther down a road I can’t see.
I need to push- I need to break the world. Something between slips when I reach. A wall grows taller to capture my body.
I will fucking climb this wall until it comes down. I will move.
The wall grows higher. I can’t control my limbs, my blinking: my self. I see the body on the landscape, staring my blood is cold.
With the discovery of my own horror I melt down into the depths of my brain that should belong only to me.
Who else would they belong to? I was born with a body that fights back. I didn’t know it would fight me.
I see lists of things that are out of my control scroll past like the credits at the end of a movie that should still be playing.
I see the seconds count down like popcorn falling into my lap. One by one, I see my fear swallow myself, but I can’t control my throat to make it sink faster.
I don’t know why I need more beat for my heart, but here I am climbing walls going down.
But I give I give my gasping breath for another minute for another second with my child.
I’m breathing with my own lungs again.
My blood is here, not for pain not for a reason given from a faraway God but for love of my one child of mine.