The rush of thunder rolling through my veins, taking oxygen I do not have to spare. My mind is coiled trying to focus on what may come next. The wave of emotion sitting patiently on the rim of my eyes is dripping slowly into the dark Black Sea which has replaced my beautiful beating heart.
I can’t breathe. I can’t move. Gripping onto what little I have left to hold. Everything drips from a place so broken. Ridges festered and burning. The sound is faint, like blood from a cleaver. Slaughtered.