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Maybe I'll Illustrate this someday.
If there were no questions you could ask, if there was nothing you could do, if there was nowhere to run, would you stay?
It does not matter how she got there. The only truth was she was there, and is still there now. It does not matter if she was on her way to market or to a meeting, a date or a funeral. She was there and so was the crushing, inescapeable place. She had fallen through the cracks most literally. Much like a tiger trap or pitfall the ground gave way beneath her feet and she found herself encased. Few fireflies also floated down through the opening. Grass and dirt encircled her lower half and the night sky held its ground up above. No more light to give, no more noise, no more sunshine. The morning would come soon, but it was too far away. Too far down was she to fill her eyes with dawn. Just a brief scrape of a hole was left above, she may as well have been in a tube. Fallen down a well, she'd rather have drowned than starved and waited for the vultures to make their way around the edge of the mouth. Like some kind of obscure kiss goodbye. Feathers on lips. She knew it was her mouth now, just as the grit and specks of dirt around her were her comfort, were her body and complete thoughts. It was a hasty realization but not regretted. Silver linings. Shed each month.
Tiny legs crawled on her. She scraped them off saving herself the dignity for a little while of becoming food for life without brains. She wondered why she saved herself that. Her nose was bleeding and the iron taste spilt into her mouth. Or maybe it was from the inside. At any rate her lifeblood was letting itself lose. Your own body's last betrayal. The earthy scent of the room, now a room, filled her ironclad nose. It was mildly comforting like the sound of summer rain or the silence of snowfall. It neither loved nor hated, nor came or went. It just was regardless of the people below. Her legs would not move, her bones rejected their set places. Squirming was no longer and option. Gathering dirt towards her she tried to be as comfortable as possible, thinking of how things could be worse. She could be drowning, she could be in the mouth of a beast 10 times her size, she could be engulfed in flames, she could be a lot of places ending her life unwillingly and be uncomfortable, be in pain, be decrepid. She rested herself on the mound and inhaled the ancient earth in particles. It was keeping her from pain, it was keeping her from heartbreak, from embarrassment, from judgement of others, from anxiety and need, from hatred and persecution, from blame. It loved her. The earth so old and ever present, so omnipotent and never regarded, loved her. So new and thoughtless, so callouse and apathetic. So temporary. It wanted her for its own. Just as everyone returns, she was to return but willingly. Unfortunately dust to dust, unfortunately ashes to ashes, unfortunately fortunate. There was comfort here and not worry. The earth had no eyes, or nose, or senses to offend. It held her there as the air left her fleeting and free. Her delusioned senses held glimpses of sunbeams and satisfaction. She dreamt of fantasies and fortunes she'd never have but acquired in those moments. The object of her affection holding her close and never letting go as the dograys trickled down to her lifeless features. The fireflies long gone with her spirit.
Her blood filling her lungs and all the wrong crevices of her corpse.
Her body preburied.
She did not fight, she loved.
It does not matter how she got there. The only truth was she was there, and is still there now. It does not matter if she was on her way to market or to a meeting, a date or a funeral. She was there and so was the crushing, inescapeable place. She had fallen through the cracks most literally. Much like a tiger trap or pitfall the ground gave way beneath her feet and she found herself encased. Few fireflies also floated down through the opening. Grass and dirt encircled her lower half and the night sky held its ground up above. No more light to give, no more noise, no more sunshine. The morning would come soon, but it was too far away. Too far down was she to fill her eyes with dawn. Just a brief scrape of a hole was left above, she may as well have been in a tube. Fallen down a well, she'd rather have drowned than starved and waited for the vultures to make their way around the edge of the mouth. Like some kind of obscure kiss goodbye. Feathers on lips. She knew it was her mouth now, just as the grit and specks of dirt around her were her comfort, were her body and complete thoughts. It was a hasty realization but not regretted. Silver linings. Shed each month.
Tiny legs crawled on her. She scraped them off saving herself the dignity for a little while of becoming food for life without brains. She wondered why she saved herself that. Her nose was bleeding and the iron taste spilt into her mouth. Or maybe it was from the inside. At any rate her lifeblood was letting itself lose. Your own body's last betrayal. The earthy scent of the room, now a room, filled her ironclad nose. It was mildly comforting like the sound of summer rain or the silence of snowfall. It neither loved nor hated, nor came or went. It just was regardless of the people below. Her legs would not move, her bones rejected their set places. Squirming was no longer and option. Gathering dirt towards her she tried to be as comfortable as possible, thinking of how things could be worse. She could be drowning, she could be in the mouth of a beast 10 times her size, she could be engulfed in flames, she could be a lot of places ending her life unwillingly and be uncomfortable, be in pain, be decrepid. She rested herself on the mound and inhaled the ancient earth in particles. It was keeping her from pain, it was keeping her from heartbreak, from embarrassment, from judgement of others, from anxiety and need, from hatred and persecution, from blame. It loved her. The earth so old and ever present, so omnipotent and never regarded, loved her. So new and thoughtless, so callouse and apathetic. So temporary. It wanted her for its own. Just as everyone returns, she was to return but willingly. Unfortunately dust to dust, unfortunately ashes to ashes, unfortunately fortunate. There was comfort here and not worry. The earth had no eyes, or nose, or senses to offend. It held her there as the air left her fleeting and free. Her delusioned senses held glimpses of sunbeams and satisfaction. She dreamt of fantasies and fortunes she'd never have but acquired in those moments. The object of her affection holding her close and never letting go as the dograys trickled down to her lifeless features. The fireflies long gone with her spirit.
Her blood filling her lungs and all the wrong crevices of her corpse.
Her body preburied.
She did not fight, she loved.
Icy
thoughtful