the midst of solitude

If there is no room for air,
How do I breathe?

How do I set this petite machine at ease -
Where there is no room to lay down my head?

No room for rest.

There is no stillness
When the mind quakes -
No strength
When the memory breaks.

I push and I push
And I push
- And they help -

Knowing soon the soul will cave
- Soon the connections of the brain
will snap -
Soon the body will collapse.

The heart has been torn.