Empty

For a second, I could feel the house as empty, an exhilarating expanding silence.

Un-tied opportunities, no restrictions, lucid future comets firing, in any space I turned to.

The objects that habitually mock my captivity, suddenly promising life, life as lived by people who I can’t even imagine.

The clinging, brooding, criticizing, blaming, foreboding force at which, I recoiled my neck into my chest, tightend my esophagus, my shoulders, leg muscles and held my breath, since some point in the mid 90s when my childhood torment not supplanted by happiness, had actually transferred to a position much more tightly bound.

Might have been gone in that glimpse of surroundings, altered.

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