It is only after one stares into the void and lets it envelop them, that they can unfreeze themselves
For some, the void is a mirror
You will repeat to yourself quietly: This is it This is it This is the abyss It’s here, I’m here, I am becoming
The horror is momentary but penetrating You’ve been sleeping for a long time
Waking up The buildings outside your apartment have changed colors Were they newly painted? This is the place that you live, isn’t it?
You’re alive again, awake Going somewhere
By pressing conch shells to both ears You will meet the sea
— Christina Gigliotti