I reached in and ripped my own heart out. So I could watch it beat before me. So I could watch the blood drip between my fingers as I dropped down with it to the floor. You see, I had locked myself inside a room. Never wanting to come out because I liked what I had inside. I wasn’t sure if what I had inside would survive what was outside the door. It became unbearable… staring out through the crack, my face flush with the concrete floor.
Only being able to touch him with my fingertips. It became unbearable… stealing glances as he walked by me. Only stopping to say hello in the light because he wouldn’t dare in the dark.
One day I leaned too hard on my comforting wooden doors, I only wanted to see what was outside… and I fell through. I was ugly and pale and weak and unbathed. I was disgusting. Before I could scramble back inside, he saw me. He saw me and he stopped to stare…. For just a moment. … Then kept going. He just kept going… as I lay there, naked… completely vulnerable.
So I gathered what was left, crawled back into the room, and shut the door. I took whatever I could find and blocked the cracks.
I layed there. And decided I’d wait for someone to break through next time.