The shelf is old

The wood dry and cracked

Smothered in dust

It chokes me

As I lay here

Unmoving

Repeating to myself

Do not move

Don’t breathe

Don’t even think

The shelf is old

I don’t know how much longer it will last

Under the weight of me

Under the weight of my mask

I don’t know how much longer it will last

And I am so high off the floor

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