Fetal

Wishing herself away She spirals herself on ceramic to the height of childhood, reuniting each extension of her being to simple oneness to challenge the chaos in her mind. Familiar figures outside the room shape themselves with concern, but her crowded thoughts cannot understand a silhouette; she knows its lack of attention to detail. Her lungs fill with steamy air and release in heavy sigh around her favorite position: She feels safe in the warm pockets of her limbs, blanketing her heart from the chill of truth beyond the room. A fleeting urge to unfurl flies by, as she hears the bathroom tile pleading to end the smack of rumblings from her toes: but she resists, knows enough not to anger a nerve’s anxiety. Curls droop anxiously over her knees, eager to be straightened to some sense of sanity, but she brushes them away from the moistness on flushed skin: figures they’ll only frizz with failure alongside her own objectives… At this moment, She owns the serenity of ease seemingly unnoticeable to others performing worry beyond the door. Oh the moment to hold and not let go! The fear of greeting her fate outside…. But The sanctity of her thighs cannot warm the length of her body beyond a moment; the tears from her eyes never completely drown the sight of confusion; the locks of hair are never opaque enough to shield the brash smirks of ultraviolet light; and the arch of her frame eventually must cease its primitive beauty… All, sadly, in overwhelming acceptance of her non literal position.