Struggling.

I just can’t breathe.It’s like the rain kept pouring.

The world became smaller and smaller until now.

I am in a glass coffin,

the water is falling from the ceiling,

rising up my legs,

up my arms,

up my neck.

I’m sputtering out each exhale,

fighting with the downpour of tears to manage the next breath,

under this faucet that has no off valve.

Slowly choking.

Suffocating in this glass box.

This is not a sitcom.

This is real life.. my life.

On display for the masses.

I stare in the mirror and hate the bruises that have not yet formed from the screams I’ve yet to give.

Some where there is a whipping post with my name on it.

I have to get out of this box.

I have to stay above this flood line.

It’s coming..

I can’t do this alone.

The lights are blinding,

The water is cold,

the world is so very small.

I can’t breathe.

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