How does one
Stay grateful for
The four walls
and roof that
keep them warm
when every second
it feels like
they’re getting closer
baring down and
stealing all the air?
It feels so thin
The air in here
Each breath I take
Seeming to be more
Difficult than the last
I need to go
I need to get out
I need to see
Something that isn’t white
Something more than one room
Something that isn’t just
A hallway on the other
Side of the door
With a kitchen
At the end of the hall
Please just let me out.
About the Creator
Kristina Zill
She/her. Survivor. LGBTQ+. Polyamorous. Writer. Gamer.
Keep reading
More stories from Kristina Zill and writers in Poets and other communities.
The Devil's Triangle
The sails ruffled in the breeze as we cruised along. The Sea Breeze was a mid-size catamaran that sailed out of Royal Naval Dockyard in Bermuda. We had booked this trip weeks in advance and were now looking at our Captain, Spike and two boat hands. Paddy and Wilson seemed like nice guys, joking around with the passengers and telling us some stories about Bermuda that only locals would know. Their island accents sounded almost British but they were pleasant to listen to.
By Barbara Gode Wilesabout 9 hours ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.