Stand

Written by Jacob Ibrag

Easy. Slow down just a bit. The air is rare in a

place like this. You’re not blind, it’s just pitch black

in here. Can’t move, there isn’t enough space. You

stretch your fingers out to the edges, feeling the oak

that’s taken you in. This is what you wished for, isn’t

it? Twisted promises, he tore your heart into pieces.

It’s been eating away from your existence, thinking

about the girl he’s replaced you with. And now you’re

in the final stretch of the final seconds of your wretched

being. And it hits you in your chest, the fact that he

wasn’t ever worth it. You haven’t even lived. Clench

your fists and shatter this wooden ceiling because

 that’s all it is, a cage to keep you from living. Crawl

through the dirt, shed your old skin. Fill in your

new lungs, breathe out regrets. Lift your self,

 stand. Not six feet under, not yet.

Photographer Unknown