Morning Cereal

I sit
and
pour my 
morning cereal. 

I sit
and think,
and 
pour my 
morning cereal,

Golden squares 
toasted in sugar,
falling from 
a box.

Taken from 
a place of
comfort,
put into 
a cold
ceramic.

Not a second 
to breathe,
drowning,
and 
sinking.

Submerged in 
milky thickness
unable 
to move,
to fight.

Left helpless, 
to wait for 
a knight in 
shining armor 
to be picked
up and
to be 
saved.

Waiting for 
that silver
suit.

Waiting for 
that outreached
hand.

Waiting for
that electric
touch. 

Lifted up
is freedom near?

Turn around
only in 
fear
with only 
darkness in
the distance.

Melting away
into the
thickness that's 
surrounding,
wishing it 
would all
end here.

Awaiting the 
painful crunch,
the dizzying swirl,
and
the deafening screams.

But,
all it was
was over.

I sit 
and think
and
pour my
morning cereal.


Comments

  1. Ahhh there is a very specific mood established here. It's dark and simple at the same time, which makes sense because when we are in a dark place, we try to see the world for exactly what is happening. Hence, your first line, "I sit and pour my morning cereal". I think you use the show don't tell trick here a lot and I loved that. I did not quite get that one line, "Lifted up, is freedom here?". Maybe you can find a way to embed it differently?

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