Back in time

Looking to the future, I have slipped back in time, become reckless in a way I have not lately been, driven drunk, been uncomfortable, surrendered myself to sweat and mosquitos, ripped open my throat singing in a voice not mine, in a language not mine, speeding through a city once mine but soon to be something else, willing it to keep me, to restrain me, to stop me, bury me, make me stay.

Too long

 I know that if I sit too long at my desk at night in silence, something will come loose and my chest will open to the weight. I have been successful at turning away, facing elsewhere, but tonight when there is no urgency that requires either action or rest I find myself here again, where I always come when my ribcage is parted.