and with that it comes like a deluge of blood rushing to my head.

I remember this is where I'm from.

The smell of sweat from the slick skin of the dead permeates the air as as I'm screaming words I can't forget.

Everyone's shoving.

I'm suddenly shirtless.

But I don't hear a thing.

I'm torn like the fabric.

I move to the rhythm.

I trust everyone will sing.

Then I feel a slow collapse, one wall at a time.

The world, the house, the hands, the mouths.

I'm grasping for a line.

Why are we here?

What does it mean?

I close my eyes and drift again, slipping through the seams.