A Big Fat Elephant
I feel like I am suffocating.
Like a big fat elephant has landed on my chest and made it its home.
I am angry at the sun.
For rising and beginning a new day
when I wasn’t ready for the last to be done.
I want it to be dark.
I want the sun to disappear and never come back
so that I may be engulfed in the darkness
that is this feeling.
I can’t breathe
I can’t think
I Only feel.
I feel every hurt, every confusion, every pain
like a fresh wound that’s being poked
over and over again.
I don’t want to wake up.
I don’t want to breathe.
I don’t want to move.
I don’t want to enter the sun
that is a new day.
The elephant can stay on my chest.
He has made his home and I will allow it.
I hope he embeds himself so far in my chest
that I no longer breathe.
That I no longer feel this pain.
So that I no longer yearn for the things I’ve lost.
For the things I cannot have.
Perhaps this elephant will be good company.
Perhaps his weight will bring me peace.
Perhaps he simply wanted somewhere to lay
and I was the stillest thing around.
Who am I to disturb that?
Who am I to complain?
I will have to make peace with this weight
until he finds a new home
or dies off and withers away.
For now I’ll stay perfectly still
so that he may rest.
I will not move.
I will not wake.
For I cannot breathe.
He has my chest.