Release

She cried. She needed to cry. There was too much inside her. Compressing into a pressurized vault with explosive potential….She wanted to empty herself. She cried as hard as she could. Rocking and rocking until she exhaled all of the breath she could. She wanted to turn her insides out and wring them dry. Wring out the bitterness, the loneliness, the sting, the confusion, the repression, the indecision, the apathy, the longing, the hurt. But inhalation made it impossible for anything other than temporary relief. She wanted to self-destruct. But she knew the source of her malady could not be tangibly located. She didn’t know exactly what to destroy. Her heart was nothing more than muscle fibers contracting in regular rhythmic intervals at the command of her brain which was nothing more than a complex interwoven network of neurons firing on cue thanks to her lungs – repositories for gaseous essentials. Her stomach – churning. Where was it coming from?