Right after she was born
I had terrible claustrophobia.
It only lasted a few days but it was
When night time fell,
That always made it worse.
I was afraid to fall asleep
But also afraid to not fall asleep.
Afraid to sleep, to not fall asleep…
The frustration of that birthed an unfamiliar terror
That made me want to sleep
And to not want to sleep
Both and neither
Ever and never again.
Because sleeping felt like being locked in a box.
Because not sleeping felt like being locked in a box.
Locked in a fucking shrinking stinking box
With tingles of muted light breathing in through the little corner spots of the box.
And it felt like it was getting smaller with every collapsing breath.
It’s been a while
But I’m still recovering from that dark dwarfing feeling,
And sometimes forget
That I am not (currently)
That part of me always will be.
*** Just breathe…. It’s behind you now…. It was 8 years… or 8 seconds… ago. ***