The Sound of Lonesome

Left

Big empty room

White walls

Ceiling

All black

.

No one

Is here

Just me

And the air

No one

.

The air

Presses down

On the face

The throat

Crushing

Like

.

Like under

A grabbing blanket

Pushing in on me

Claustrophobia

Pulling in

.

Not letting me go

I see nothing

Yet it is everywhere

All around me

Clinging black

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