I wake up in a strange place;
a perfectly square box.
holding out my hands as far as I can reach
is the exact width of the box,
forward, backward, and sideways.
stretching my arms upwards
is the box’s exact height.
I glide my fingertips along the box walls;
smooth, cold, flat,
and stronger than concrete.
I sit, defeated and confused,
and lean against the wall.
I feel my body incline forward slightly,
inching ever so slowly towards the opposite wall.
the walls;
they’re moving,
toward me!
consumed by panic,
I move to push the walls simultaneously
with my hands on one wall and my feet on the other.
it doesn’t work.
I kick the wall with all my power,
and when nothing happens, I kick again with more force.
like a bull after a matador,
I slam into each side of the box,
but it still doesn’t give.
the ceiling creeps toward me,
but I refuse to give up.
there’s still hope.
I stand with bent knees,
beating my heel into the ground
hoping,
desperately,
it will give my way to freedom.
it doesn’t.
the walls tap my elbows,
beckoning me to tuck them in.
only then do I realize
it’s over.
slowly, I curl myself up
to prevent being squashed prematurely.
each nanometer a new part of me must hide,
until finally,
I’m crouched, chin in lap, on my side.
as the walls squeeze my body
all at once,
I think
at least I put up a good fight.