SoC 3:1

Days of Dying He tosses the choicest abuses. I'm starved by the arrogance of his words, smothered in their pain. An invisible prison forms my life, a world shrunken to 18x24. Whimpers and sighs, then silence, make madness a comfortable state. Mind frantically grappling, a hundred words die like choked weeds closeted in a never-ending night. Courage leaves me to fight for breath, blithely unaware of my self image. There will be other dawns as life progresses in fits and starts and my voice will lift, pluck courage from seeds I've dropped and speak the thirsty words, buried in the dust.