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  • Writer's pictureWellington Lambert

The cage.



When my breath expands into awareness, I am released from the noise inside my head.

I can move into a space that hovers outside of my body, anchored to my flesh. A detached oneness that gives my soul room to breathe.

Chatter chatter, chop chop, all that noise reduced to a useless hum.

I love it, but I don’t know what “it” is.

The mighty nothing.

It feels like the next step of the evolutionary process has lost the battle to our beautiful mind.

Our worshiping of our grey matter that won’t let go of the final secret.

I have bounced around inside my head long enough to know a cage when I feel it, see it…smell it.

Why is death the only exit?

Why is the scent of decay our only path to more of what we are?

We fight to keep what will turn to dust, competing for a footprint that will vanish with the tide.

There isn’t more.

There is what always was.

I can feel it when I breathe.

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