To have your body be struck by a force that comes from completely within itself
To know that you cannot save yourself from it
That in every silent second lurks a light that will hit you between the eyes from behind your forehead
That cold will come in waves and shivers will grate the underside of your skin
That something will gurgle up through your trachea until you are sobbing not because you are sad but because the sobs have always existed inside you and want to see day
To try, desperately, to stave it off, to force it down with anything that you can grab and pull into yourself, through mouth and eyes and nose
So that it explodes in the seconds between: the moment when your feet touch the ground, before you have reached for the curtains
Light brighter and sharper than the sun you were trying to let in
Assaulting your eyes without your permission
Shaking your body like a silent church organ
This thing that is you now
That feels like it will not leave
It will
I promise
these words by Charlotte Joyce Kidd were inspired by the work of Evelyn Bencicova
wordandcolour 