Is there something there?
Is it possible that there’s actually something inside my chest, throat and arms that expands and contracts? Like a thick-skinned balloon that inflates as memories rise up from somewhere deep. I can feel it; it presses out, threatening to burst as it reaches my skin, tight and painful. Or maybe someone is grasping me, holding my arms behind my back; their hands around my neck, letting me breathe just enough to stay conscious. They come in the night, whispering reminders of what I’ve lost so that when I dream I cry so hard I wake myself up, still able to feel their grip.