Sorry to open up with a miserable one 🤣:
Coiled and tightly-sprung, like a paranoid buckaroo awaiting the faintest breath to set it off. Fingers coiled tightly around arms, nails that dig deeply into the fabric of tension. The flame flickers close to the paper, licking at it with want and hunger. Free me from this. Immolate me. Or just open and close the door and let me hear nothing again. Knees so close I can taste them. Like a mess of limbs and anger and resentment and tears. A bowling ball of hot sorrow. I fold in on myself as much as I can. I ignore the seven-fold rule and achieve the improbable. A gutful of anxious fear powering me onwards and inwards like a mushroom cloud in reverse. It shudders closed in silence. I remain in space, and no-one can hear me scream.
