This Was Fun

Words by Sarah, 29 VIC, You can find more of her poetry on Instagram @sharperpoetry

One minute, I’m laughing over breakfast, the next, the floor is swallowing me whole. There’s a ringing in my ears that starts as a whisper, calling me somewhere I’ve been before; somewhere that grabs hold of my limbs and doesn’t ask whether I want to follow. My friend hugs me goodbye, says this was fun, has no idea I’m being kidnapped while we wait for the eftpos receipt. I walk to my car, heart trying to make its escape, lungs pretending that if they expand deeply enough, it’ll leave. I stay upright as I steer my car home; I’m not sure how, couldn’t describe any landmarks I passed on the way. The key turns in the lock of the door, my bag falls onto the hall stand, my feet make the movements they are supposed to, until I reach my bedroom. It rips through my body, like it’s angry I made it wait this long to be acknowledged; convulsing as if I’m caught outside during a frost, not wrapped under the covers, waiting for my body to be mine again. Breakfast returns the way it came, into the plastic container I manage to grab blindly. I’m twenty nine years old and I want my mother. I’m twenty nine years old and I’m afraid of my own mind, of being alone in my own house. I’m twenty nine years old and I was told I’d outgrow it by now; so I wait, as it leaves without closing the door behind it; wondering when it’ll find me again.

Illustration by AileenYou can find more of her work on Instagram @aileenetc