My mind escaped me last night. The birds swam through my synopses and fish flew through my frontal cortex. I tried to cry, my tear ducts were so very, very dry. I called out to my silence and my silence was quiet in return. The blackness still has a hold on my soul, or at least the essence that keeps me alive, though not breathing. I don't breathe anymore, there's simply no time for it. Alone. Alone in this panic and without oxygen, I inhale the taste of defeat. Don't let the water in, don't give the birds a chance to swim, is what you tell me. But choices are for the strong. I am captive. In captivity, the birds will swim. And the fish will fly. Alone. Alone my essence dies under the darkness, which whom is thriving. Thriving in my bones. Please burn me and let the darkness go.