be still my beating heart

the blue-green sparks were enough to illuminate almost a whole corner of the dark room. crisp crackling was the perfect accompaniment to their bright display.

small wisps of my hair remained standing on end a second or two longer than i thought they would have. removing my heavy sweatshirt made me warm and cold at the same time.

laying down between the clean sheets had a similar effect.

i've heard of certain concierge services at fancy hotels that include a human sheet warmer. i wouldn't want anyone to take that moment from me. that special minute where the cold clears your mind and helps you prepare for sleep is so integral to me that i don't think i'd be able to settle without it.

eyes closed, the sounds around me became amplified. the whir of some digital device somewhere nearby, and the soft hum of the heat blowing through the vent were the most noticeable.

that was, until i nestled my head deep into my pillow. then the thud of my pulse began to pound through my ear, dull at first, then louder and more consuming.

i thought of the raven and the heart beating under the floorboards.

but that only distracted me for a brief moment. then it was back to only hearing the whooshing of my own blood in my ear.

switching sides didn't help.

we battled this way for what felt like hours. i tried to ignore my pulse, my basic life function, and it became the only thing i knew.

------

waking up the next morning, i had no memory of the struggle. it was only later that night, when the scene began all over again, that it came back to me and i knew what i was in for.

and so it's been, night after night, forever and ever, i am sisyphus and my heartbeat is my boulder. it sustains me and drains me.