Found some handwriting
it took forever to decipher
as my own,
with large open loops
and smooth sweeping strokes
outside the lines,
I read
plain as day, black on white,
set as granite
between these boulders
where I have been pinned
and slowly
squeezed into thinking
I must fit
failing
to recognize
how shallow
my breath had become
how tiny and whispered
my words were,
I take in less and less
of what is essential to live.
I do not recognize the freedom
of thought,
for a moment
things shifted,
weight-
and I saw myself
scratched out.
Image credited by 'Theory and Practice of handwriting' c. 1894 in Public Domain.
