Author Miss Parisia B
Sitting up, my head began pulsing with the rhythm of my heart. Maybe I got up too fast.
I had woke up with an aching need to cut all ties. Things were moving too fast.
My hand was still, mind racing; I decided to call and speak it.
New Text Message: “I think we’re moving too fast.. “
My phone died.
My eyes decided to shut. When they opened, the day was still lit. What a slow demise. The screen on my phone sat idle and bright. The minutes passed through seconds. Oh, the slowness of time.
I took a walk. I needed to slow my thoughts.
He had become extinction when I craved discovery.
I’ve slowly become disillusioned. So many false connections with people who don’t exist.
Three years ago, I was chained to the bottom of his self-esteem.
Now my phone is frozen, so today I’m chained to this bed waiting to be lifted.
I shocked myself how I could succumb to the bottom of the ocean and still rise up the very next day.
Maybe I’m invincible: enjoying the kisses of the sun exclusively for the existence of those afloat.
Perhaps I’m breakable: belonging at the bottom, amidst the treasures no one desires.
My phone is damaged. Sunk to the bottom of my toilet. I dropped it there. You never called.