THE COLD GAP

“The Cold Gap”

The snap was loud.

One beat hit, the next failed.

I was out.

The room stayed. I had no weight.

I stood there, thin and cold,

watching my skin go gray.

I hit the air.

It did not move.

I am an inch from my own face.

The space between is a wall.

No glass. No stone.

Just a hard, cold stop.

I hammered at the void.

My fists made no sound.

The skin I used to wear stayed still.

It did not flinch.

It did not breathe.

I threw my weight against the air.

Nothing moved.

I scratched at the void.

My nails found no grip.

I am a ghost to my own hands.

I am a stranger to my own chest.

I stopped hitting.

The wall is absolute.

I am the scrap that fell out.

I lay on the floor,

pressed to the cold gap.

I watch my own eyes.

They will never open.

I am locked on the wrong side of the world.

I lay there weeping endlessly in the cold air.