The Tightening

Sitting here. The lights are bright.

The tightening. 

The pulsing behind the eyes slowly move to clench the right side of my jaw.

If i turn too abruptly, 

the tightening. 

Perhaps I hate bright lights because it is where I first lost a sense of humanity. Where doctors would investigate what went wrong. “What did go wrong?” i ask myself. 

Nothing

But the tightening reminds me to breathe. It reminds me of why I hate bright fluorescent lights. It is the first thing we see when we enter the world. It is the thing we see when we are being probed by strangers in white cloaks. It is often times where we search for food. It follows us. It follows me.

The tightening starts as I look up and see it glaring down on me while asking “what went wrong?”