Bands not wire.
(Wires would cut, promise distraction with pain.)
Thick bands of steel.
(Two-inches wide and godawfully shiny.)
Tightening…
Squeezing…
Crushing…
Across my chest, around my throat, inside my head.
Smaller and smaller I claw within myself, needing to hide, needing to bury myself far, far away from…
Anxiety.
It crawled back into my bed this morning and wrapped me in its bands of steel.
Bottom line: Certain fools never sleep alone.
Until tomorrow…
Chloe, a certain fool
