Piece 35: The View From the Bottom of the Lake

. I feel it in my bones
. she said, trembling violently under the crisp night air.
. Her heart beat [q u i c k ening] against my chest
. Slowing slowly, more ragged.
. She nuzzles closer, desperate for the two things I am unable to provide;
. Warmth and love.
.
. She attempts to blink back tears knowing they will freeze in mere moments
.                        obscuring what little there is left to see in our immediate vicinity.
.
. With her body slumped against me
.               It feels like I am trapped in a grocery store freezer
.                                 And we are two packages of meat waiting to expire.
.
. I try to comfort her, but, to be honest, prospects are looking bleak.
. I give her a quick squeeze and sigh, exhaling a swath of frosted regret.

. The subzero temperatures stab viciously as I wriggle my toes to stave off frostbite.
. The movement challenged by the ice-induced rigor.
. She looks up at me and tells me that she loves me.
. I mumble a response, vague, yet comforting and pray she believes it.
. After all, if I can’t give her hope in our last moments
.                                                                             then I guess I’ve completely failed her.
.
. Her small frame stopped moving,
. the gentle heaving of the ocean turned to a placid lake.
.
.                             A small tear forms in the corner of my eye,
.                             not from the pain of loss,
.                             but the guilt from my lack of pain.
.
.
.                                               Breaths get shallower, the corners of my vision fade.
.                                                                                               I succumb to the elements.

Piece 34: Morning Thoughts

. I flatulated again,
. The violent ejection of pent up gas shatters the silence of my dwelling.
. Unmoving, I suffer through the angry/bitter sulphuric smell.
. It will pass just like all the other moments of my life, equally unimportant.
.
. S t r e t c hing to unknot the spasms stabbing my spine
. Caused by my corpulence, my rotund gut [ex t e  n  d   i   n   g]
.                                                  heav
.                                        and              ing slightly with every thick, needing breath.
.
. A dejected look on my visage
.                                    as disappointing thoughts pass fleeting through my mind.
.
. Is there really any more to life than this?
.    Does my health really mean nothing to me?
.
.                                                                          Did I leave my front door unlocked?
.
. I wonder these things but they change nothing.
.                                                                            I change nothing.
.                        Everything stays the same.

Piece 33: Timely Acts of Escapism

.  Cas
.          cad
.                   ing through the c ra c ks,
.  I meld.
.
.  Straddling the edges of time
.                                                              floating.
.
.                             ||Flickering||,                         I caress the vacuum of space.
.                   Staring through the palpable matter I disdain.
.  Astral projection my only release.
.
.
.                                / lensing curving spacetime,
.     Gravitational /
.                                                          [myself]
.
.                                               I view [myself] in triplicate.
.
.                                                     [myself]
.                                                                                                              / my taut flesh.
.               Mind absent \                       The peace spread across /
.                                         \ from the host, lingering.
.
.  Unchanged for aeons, now irreconcilable.
.  As the cosmos /tfihs/,
.
.     w    i
.  s            r       in a haze of light twisted by overbearing mass.
.         l
.
.                                                   Drifting,
.                                                                         gravitating,
.

.
.                                                    descending.
.
.  Returning, opening eyes, the blackness withdraws.
.  My mind settles with a somber acceptance.
.
.        twitch
.  A                    of longing unvoluntarily drawn from the corner of my lips.
.
.
.  A sullen understanding that I will never know such serenity again.