Anthony Hanible

Living In A Coffin

I’ve been living in a coffin

So long the dark has started

Answering me back

At first it was only echoes

My breath ricocheting off the walls

My heartbeat pacing like an animal

That knows it won’t be let out

But then the wood began to whisper

Grain shifting like teeth

Telling me things I don’t remember

But somehow feel guilty for

Time doesn’t move here

It circles

It Loops

It gnaws

Every thought returns wearing a new mask

Asking the same question

With a sharper edge

Some nights I swear the coffin shrinks

Tightening around my ribs

As if it’s trying to learn my shape

From the inside

Other nights

It expands

A cathedral of darkness

I wander through it barefoot

Tripping over memories

I thought I buried on purpose

The worst part isn’t the silence

It’s the way the silence watches me

Waiting for me to crack first

Maybe I already have

Maybe the lid was never nailed shut

Maybe I’m the one holding it closed

Terrified of what light might reveal

About the person who chose

To live here