breaking and rebuilding in 8 steps
breaking and rebuilding in 8 steps sad stories
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ultyangs
ultyangs Community member
Autoplay OFF   •   2 years ago
i. i feel it in my chest first. it feels like a collapse of both- my lungs and heart. i let it consume me 
“per caputque pedesque” it whispers.

breaking and rebuilding in 8 steps

i.

i feel it in my chest first. it feels like a collapse of both- my lungs and heart. i let it consume me 
“per caputque pedesque” it whispers.

right into my ears and it flows- it flows all over me until i can’t take the agony anymore.

ii.


i stop breathing. every time i almost stop my heart i take in some air- just enough to still feel it. i can’t take it anymore and i decide to give in, to surrender wholeheartedly.


iii.

i stand up and move. every step feels lighter but heavier as i get closer. i open the door into the bathroom. i undress. i surrender. wholeheartedly.

i let my cheeks be touched by the salt inside my eyes. the salt- it doesn’t just touch my cheeks, it falls onto the floor as well.


iv.

i lay on the bathroom floor. my face looks red, violent red. it’s because i forget to breathe because i weep. like when i was 8 and my favorite painter pulled the trigger.

i weep for that and for what is right now.

v. 


it begins to lose the power over me. it goes. slowly. like smoke. first it leaves my toes and i can wiggle them. then it loses power everywhere else. my legs. my strong legs help me stand up.

my face now looks different. still red though. i wipe my cheeks and close my eyes.

vi.

i open my eyes. that same violent shade of red on my face just a few minutes ago is now swallowing them whole. it’s the agonizing salt that makes them look so red. my face looks pale now.

i take a step into the tub and let the ice cold water flow all over me. it feels good and then worse. it makes me breathless. but in a different way. i wash myself. i get dressed.

i never, not once look at my reflection in the mirror.


vii.

i open the door. like it never even happened. i move. fourteen steps to my kitchen counter where i find my glass. i pour myself a glass of ice cold water. i drink it slowly.

the first glass feels endless. i feel the second in my throat and it is soothing. i trace the cold feeling in my stomach until it vanishes and the third glass fills me with will.

viii.


i sit on my bed. i open my notebook. i write a poem about it.

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