Beep. Beep. Beep.
The alarm screams, disturbing the silence.
I’ve been awake for longer than that. Yet, I do not move nor blink.
The mattress sags under a heavy weight—
sprawled across my chest, pressing, burrowing in deeper the longer I lie still.
It settles with dreadful comfort and makes my ribs its home.
Click—my eyes open.
Groan—the bedsprings complain.
Thud—the specter follows, always on top, always heavier than yesterday.
I force myself up; it clings in fevered devotion.
I bathe with it, and as steam fogs the mirror,
I catch its pale face staring back,
It grins. Blink. Breathe. Pretend.
Only fog on the glass but I feel its claws trace down my spine.
Tink—the spoon hits my plate.
It whispers that the food will taste like ash. Still, I eat.
Honk—the walk to school, its shadow stretches longer than mine.
Tap-tap-tap—rain on the pavement, steady and endless.
Clack—the door shuts behind me, it follows.
Tick-tock.
The clock counts its hours. My steps drag,
slower, softer, tired. So close to giving in.
Then—warmth.
Someone calls my name.
Soft sunlight shines onto the room, laughter cracks open the air.
For a while, it loosens its grip.
The air feels lighter.
The colors bloom vibrant.
The world tilts towards joy,
And for a breath,
I am not drowning.
But it never lasts.
it always comes back—
Angry that I dared to forget.
No one else sees it.
No one else feels the thing gnawing at my ribs,
Feeding me dread just to keep itself alive.
By night I would be too tired to fight.
A boneless husk thuds on the bed.
The specter curls close, purring with satisfaction.
The glutton gorged on everything I could not fight.
Yet even then, I breathe.
Sigh—a reminder that I am still here.
And tomorrow will come,
Inhale—with the gentle steps of those I cherish,
bringing something, however small.
enough to meet the morning once again.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The alarm screams again.
It’s still here.
But so am I.
And so are the colors,
the laughter,
the warmth—
fighting so fiercely for space beside the shadow.
