I awake

Groggily 

Lying still in murky black

Where am I? 

Who knows? Who cares?

Is that dull thud my own heartbeat?

So slow         Muffled

I reach up to touch the blackness

I reach           Slowly

Pins                And needles

Cold air creeping over my scalp

Slime encasing my tongue

Did I eat something? I cannot remember

Hands come to contact with sticky, cold surface

Right above my head

Lower my hands through the black air

Through murky water

Thick with refuse

Hands touch cold hardness

It is                What I am laying on

Chilling my bones

Not my skin though

Try to shift my legs

Pins              And needles

Are they even attached to me anymore?

Hands crawl to my sides

I touch cold, slimy, sticky, naked chicken skin

Covered in goosebumps

Pins              And needles 

Slowly bring aching arms up, and put those hands on my face 

What is this?

A blindfold?

Oh yes. Distantly I remember now that I put it on myself

Drag the burlap silk over my nose

Not much light comes into my eyes       As I lift heavy lids off of them

Through ringing ears, faint voices

Calling my name? 

I have no idea

Lift up the hands; pale gray tinged with sick green

Press them against the cold, wet, hazy, filmy glass       Way above my head

Pins                And needles

The glass blocking nothingness

The glass trapping nothingness

Voices die in ringing

Breathe in green-tinted smoke

Cover eyes back with that same greasy blindfold

Smoke fills my lungs; my world

Tongue gets slimier 

Ironic, isn't it?

Avoiding misery by being in it?