Inspired by this artwork by muchacha11
I saw this drawing and it stuck with me all night and all day, I couldn’t stop thinking about how haunting it is until I wrote something.
It builds and builds and builds.
It presses on his lungs and squeezes at his heart and burns through his veins and he can’t take it, he can’t take this. This doubt. This fear. This emptiness. He’s tried to run away, tried to face it, tried to fight it, tried to fight himself… but it never works. He’s still here, still struggling and hurting and feeling and nothing.
It builds and he tries to push it down. He constructs everything so carefully, he irons his shirts, ties his bowties, shines his shoes, presses the wrinkles from his pants. He gels his hair and shaves and puts himself together in exactly the way he wants because it’s all he can and he needs something. Something he can control. Something that is his.