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Postlar arxiv
482
It's as if you slip,
And fall from the top of the mountain,
But you don't die.
Then, the mountain collapses on top of you,
And you're trapped beneath the rocks,
But you still don't die.
You see nothing,
You hear nothing.
You struggle,
But you don't move.
You scream, but
Your voice is choked in your throat.
You wait, but
No one is around.
Nothing changes,
And nothing ends.
You just breathe,
And you wish that
One of those rocks
Had hit you on the head.
