As the hours peeled away like paint from the walls of an old building,
I sat still for yet another hour, yet another day, on yet another week.
Time has started to feel like a line drawn in sand, Everything around me feels as if frozen, mummified, preserved. I’ve been sitting in front of my window, my gateway to the por- tion of the world assigned to me,
staring at one end of life and breathing the other.
I can taste the taste of nothingness in my tongue, smell the still- ness in the air,
and the repetitive sound of the clock, the fan, my feet dangling against the side of the bed, gentle slapping my half-worn slip- pers,
I have worn my hair in a bun since yesterday, falling loosely as it gives in to tug and pull,
The gold earrings I have worn since forever, still snug on my ears, my dress fluttering away to the hum of summer...