A small ant crawls inside my chest with tiny steps, multiple steps like fingers tapping on a drum, curiously feeling with its antenna everything it passes by. Occasionally, it takes a bite. There are scars all over my heart, and everything above the diaphragm. If I holler with pain, it stops with the innocence of a kid. If I run, it stops scared. Starts back fresh, if I let go either the despair or the endurance even for a moment. Sometimes late at night, I lie incapacitated, flat on the floor, down in the basement, very quite and still even for my own breath thinking if lifelessness was same as death and I hear it wonder what is wrong with me. With a deep breath, whiff of air and little shake I assure everything is alright. Back it goes on rambling.

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