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It convulses from my stomach. I feel something squirm like a worm through my chest. It feels how a heart valve sticking might feel, I have one last second to imagine. It’s my last rational thought. I feel the tears swelling behind my face. My body is already shaking. I hug my body. My teeth chatter lightly. I’m cold. I rock forth and back: an instinct attempt at self-soothing. It’s all so lost. It’s all fucking gone. I’m losing myself to the hole. I can hear my sobbing echoing on the cold stoned enclosing walls. I am cocooning. I am being pressed into to a ball. Tighter. Squeeze. I will disappear. I am so filthy. I don’t deserve anything. I should just die. I’m not worth anything at all.
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Metanarrative