my heart thumps as loud as the boom of a grandfather clock. it pounds repeatedly and the more i try to focus on something else, like the galactic nail polish i painted on my toe nails the other day, the harder it ricochets against the inside my skull. the sound overwhelms the chambers of my head, to the point where i can’t compartmentalize its howl, and i let it compress me. i let it surround me in an invented, bare space i call home, and the sound muffles as i sink down to a linoleum floor.
i hear a groan, and i realize that irritable noise is escaping me. this vexes me, because i know i need to break that wretched grandfather clock, i need to do what buffy does and slice these dark demons away, i need to be the person i wish i was: strong, passionate, brazen, and courageous. i need to get up because time, as relative as it is, won’t wait for me to catch my breath. i know these things, i do.