A D. state of mind

A magellanic cloud in a single brain cell, is but a cell. A rotten prison of thoughts, of scenarios and knotted reflections of every direction your life could take. But it does not. It balances on a needle’s tip, skipping the joyous moments of the trips a parallel You could make. Frozen in time, you dress yourself in a dress of smiles, and go about your day. Pure fear fuels you to pretend you are your own best and only friend. You do not partake in praying or believing in help. You silence your yelps and go to sleep. You wake to a the beep of an EKG, as it slowly decreases the rate. You die without ever living, and you have no one but yourself to hate.

D.