Art featured by Rachel Ong

it’s like drowning. you’re gasping for air, but there’s nothing keeping you from breathing. 

you’re just stuck in mid-air. 

as people pass you by, they breath, they live, and they move forward. you don’t.

it feels heavy to float.

you reach for the ground, but like a buoy submerged under a wave, you’re pulled up higher than where you were before.

after some time, you stop trying. You close your eyes and drift with the wind.

it feels like your heart has turned to lead. And it pulls.

you welcome the weight. you look for comfort in its grasp, confusing the strangling pressure with an embrace. 

you cling to the heaviness, to its familiar warmth.

it quickly turns into blistering heat. 

but you’re no stranger to the fire.

it seeps into your very bones. it licks and claws at your skin, burning and burning and burning. 

and then it leaves. It crawls back out through your eyes, through your throat. It rolls down your cheeks and drips from your chin. it leaves you empty, pulling you higher as you finally let it go.

And that’s the scariest part. feeling empty.

It just feels so heavy to float.

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