Chest

I was told they would come

in the heat of the Sun.

So I hid all my treasures

as the raid begun.

A pencil, a rubber,

a script, and a gun.

I kept them all in my chest

until the race had been run.

Now darkness was here

and the looting was done.

But my ribcage would not open

though my heart was undone.

I ran down to the street

but did not find anyone.

I cried out for help

but my voice was now gone.

It's hard to keep breathing

when your chest weighs a tonne.

So despite all my efforts

still, the bastards had won.

---

originally written 18th February 2017

Writer's notes: You're sort of taught to bottle it up, to keep it all shut inside for the meantime, because it would make you vulnerable to open up at this point. So you do. And then you wait. But when the time comes, there's no one around to help you open back up again, no one to help you unload all the baggage you've kept in so tightly all this time. And it weighs a tonne and it's crushing your lungs and you feel like you can't take it anymore, like you can't breathe. And then it's that dread like, shit, I did this to myself. If I hadn't clammed up, just maybe my chest wouldn't feel so tight, maybe I would be okay.