Welcome to Lunar Industries: Claustrophobia (Charlin Benjamin)

01. –at the very first blink of your eye in your mother's womb, chimes surrounded by saltwater lifeblood, the color of love carrying your everyday for months to end.

02. This feeling which embraces you, like the recurring resound of feet tapping keys down the hallway when you are supposed to be asleep but are not quite awake, having been torn out of your dreams.

03. This feeling which embraces you, during your first round of hide and seek, as it dawns on you that the less you seek the more you are exposed to the demons in your wardrobe–

04. This feeling which embraces you, in the icy pool water, as you’re thrown into the unknown, unprepared and now nearly unconscious to register another hold bringing you back to the living.

05. This feeling which embraces you, by every arm ignoring your lack and lack of strength to fight unfamiliar affections attacking your smallest frame unwanted, for far too long–

06. –with wonder as you sit in your father’s car surrounded by the comical colors and alarming noises of the car wash turning your awe into horror with each passing roll and thrum of the brushes.

07. This feeling, this feeling, this feeling which embraces you, it embraces and embraces you, in each space moving from A to B, elevating from main to top, spinning erratically like a giant tea cup, stirring your cells with drumsticks until you see stars casting regret in your heart.

08. This feeling which embraces you, as your pulse aligns with the beat of the ride-cymbal while the marching band blinds your eyes–

09. This feeling which embraces you, when the masses become strange and stranger with every step extending the distance between you and those close to you wherever you are; un-remembering your home address.

10. –with every drop of your heart, pulled apart by violin bows, tossed in octaves from stair to stair, in turns–

11. This feeling which embraces you, when a quietness impends like a giant metronome counting the moments before your demons return–

12. This feeling which embraces you, akin to black rubber tires interrogating your consciousness, bulldozing their profile in between your strongest fears–

13. –as your body lies in a tube, bronzing your skin. And you evaporate–

14. –with the scanning of your marrows and your decisions unpacking their consequences at your doorstep and every premonition dwindles like a wailing violin in your hands.

15. –at last, decomposing your bones, a companion into a perpetual vacuum.