They mounted stones on my chest. They mounted stones on my chest to stop the breathing. I lie in a dark cavern; the humid air sits still and heavy. In this twisted entanglement, I am paralyzed by both fear and force alike as each breath pains me further. Innate memories fade to gray; distant songs fade out. I try to toss and fail to turn. Powerlessness crumbles to paralysis.
I dug this hole with their shovel. Spelunking turned to catastrophe. Deep within the coal mine, they slit the canary's throat.
The morning sun draws near. I need to breathe.