Tuesday, November 26, 2013

Weaving me.

The first moments.
They were numb. Under and over.
Thinned out like butter on too much bread. Under and over.
Trying to move was like climbing a mountain.  Under and over.
Trying to construct a thought was confusing.  Under and over.
As I wove things became eazier, but only just. Under and over.
Red and black started to form and feelings of emotions started to become noticeable.  Under and over.
Panic. It's too much. My first thought. Under and over.
The cold rushed through my lungs, Shocking my body. My first breath.
I was done.
My first time seeing them was the last.

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