the crooked and lonely lamp beside me flickered everytime I exhaled.
everytime I blinked, the light would fall silent for a moment.
i practiced blinking slow and fast, trying to drift away witg my thoughts.
i tried not to focus on my breathing, not remembering how I could breathe before I made my lungs expand and deflate.
the muscles in my fingers twitched.
i gripped the arms of the wooden chair, every muscle in my body tensed.
i closed my eyes tight.
i tried not to listen, tried not to give in but the white noise pulled me in and I opened my eyes.
hovering in front of me was my guilt.
