Her Totality

Have you ever experienced that new feeling: that feeling of the indescribable?

Have you felt It crawl across your toes and into your legs, bringing your knees to the floor?

You fall. You collapse. You tumble and break.

The suffocation spreads to your hips, your thighs.

Between your legs, you quiver and crawl in desperation.

The muscle bound beneath your waistband contracts and expands: in and out, in and out.

Your breathing becomes labored and your voice, it shakes.

From inside your stomach the ache rises.

It clenches like an iron fist around your gut.

The overwhelming pain shuts your eyes like a sheet of iron collapsing on the broken floor below.

Your knees draw to your chest and your mouth opens as if to scream, but nothing comes out.

The cold tile floor presses into your head like a thousand needles pricking through your skull.

You cry out, begging for answers, but thought and feeling disappear in the cloud of crush.

Inside your diaphragm, emotion explodes.

You cannot move; you cannot speak; you cannot breathe.

Your arms reach around your legs in an attempt to protect and flee, but inside your jeans It pulses and vibrates vividly, relentlessly.

Images flash and burn carbon copied clash and blood into your system.

Above a blanket of despair envelops the senses.

You feel the pound; you feel the push, but there is nothing, just the metallic taste lingering on your lips.

The voice, the touch of the He and the She and the Them surround you.

They drown out the little one buried deep inside: over and over.

They bite your tongue down and stitch up your lips.

From your wrists and legs and shoulder blades, the cuts and burns emerge.

Your face distorts and shies away from the darkness piercing the fire.

You bleed: again and again.

The break is no more than a pause to catch your breath.

The memory of smell is all that lingers as you fall again into the coma.

Nothing and everything take up arms: they encircle and envelop.

Here is Her perception of totality.

The gun explodes. The rain, she stops.

There is nothing.

Except the phone call interlude which only postponed the inevitable.

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You wished you could be so much more than nothing,

but you and I can only dream and hope and love.