I can smell the anxiety, taste the fear and hear the agony. I feel trapped yet I locked the door and the keys are right here in my hands. I can feel you in here so I guess I should stay longer.

My eyes feel lazy and my head feels light. I’m taking slow breaths. Really slow breaths. There’s pictures of us floating in the air.

I remember when you first met me. You had that mysterious look that made me feel so uncomfortable each time you gazed at me. I wasn’t sure what your intentions were so I ignored you. Then you said to me “you don’t have to speak, that smile you’re hiding is doing the talking” . You made me smile so hard , I forgot I had just lost everything I loved.

In this picture, you’re holding my hand. You said you’d never let go and that made me feel so secure. You introduced me to LOVE and she was the pillar that held us.

There go my eyes again.

This picture has both of us in it, only I’m standing looking at you. You’re inside a shiny big white box and there’s flowers on top. You’re not breathing and I can’t feel your heart. You’re so cold and stiff. Say something, raise your hand, move, shout. You’ve let go and you’ve taken Love with you.

I shut my eyes. Slow and deep breaths. I see you in a whole new light. You’re trying to convince me to open the door, to let go. I’m ignoring your words and focusing on your face. You miss me but you’re happy. You don’t wanna come back to me and you don’t wanna take me with you either.

I open my eyes and start to walk in circles, talking to myself about you. On November 7th you told me there was a fire in my voice I had to release. What did you mean by this? You’re not here to explain so I dig deeper into your words. You were never plain or straight, and always spoke in proverbs.

The deeper I go, the more my heart beats. Deeper and faster ,deeper and faster.

Deeper.

There’s pain all over my body and I can’t feel my lungs. The pictures are starting to crumble and fall to the ground. My body is stinging and my heart is trying to escape.

He’s holding me but I don’t know it.”Who are you?” He asks. “Why do you have cuts everywhere? Who did this to you? “I look at my hands and legs. He’s right. I keep quiet. I don’t answer you. I’m bleeding massively. I call his name, and he responds. Why is this man answering to your name? He is confused and thrilled by the amount of blood I am loosing.” If you ever meet him ,tell him he has my heart”. I say as I struggle to breathe. “Who are you!?” He asks in an agitated tone.

Who am I?