Down a darkening, spiraling stair I descend, with trepidation I feel for the next step, There it is- not so bad. I can feel it, soft and cold, under an unsure foot. There is an Up, I just can't turn to see it. Its too tight in this restricted place. I can barely breathe, but breath has less meaning as I descend. Sleep and food are not needed here. Time slows and nearly stops. Life occurs in fragmented slices, each one a life in itself. Where does it lead? Will there be a place to turn back Up? I listen quietly for a voice to lead me back. and none I hear. None I hear. There is still time for now. Some time yes. As I get farther from the voice, I draw more into the dank moist depths. It beckons. It offers. I shake, sometimes cry. "You'll get through it!" I recall those words now. I really don't WANT to "get through it". I'd rather get past it. Back to light, where children laugh, & lovers smile. But what I want & what it offers are in opposition. Both pull, but the latter stronger. Stronger than I. Stronger than I alone. one I hear. None I hear.
Reason for writing:
Seperation from my SOBirth sign: Not entered
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