Taphephobia
by Brittany Rodriguez
Sounds of hooves hitting uneven cobble assault the percussion parts of my ears.
The carriage driver and gravedigger sitting in front speak of the uneasy mortician
they just visited. Thought he might have heard a quiet timpani in my chest, but
the rest said he was imagining things. Dead as a doornail, they said. Soon she’ll
be stinking, they said. Don’t I wish.
I presume this is my “death” march. The bleak procession to my final “resting”
place. If I could I’d jump off with the yew wheels still spinning. I don’t belong
here, I wish I could tell them. I’m just trapped in this deceiving body for now, I
would tell them. But there’s only silence as the carriage reaches my stop.
Now I slowly descend in this makeshift lift, the only dreaded music coming
from the cadence the shovels of dirt make as they pound the surface of my
casket. I’m imprisoned here, a victim to the confines of my mind. I scream here,
raw ear-shattering pitches that don’t reach the sensitive cilia of my unknowing
murderers’ ears. All is chaos inside my traitor body, yet the resounding beating
of my heart, twitching of my muscles, has ceased.
How about this? Pull me up
But there are no final words.
and put me back on that cool metal table,
No pitiful last wishes.
back in the wall of assorted horrors (not like me), The oxygen’s depleting, relentless.
a tag hanging awkwardly from my still toe.
It wouldn’t matter anyway.
It couldn’t be much longer…
See, I’m trapped in this paralyzing shell.
So I’ll just be here for a while in my own type of hell, (Or is this purgatory?
Limbo?) waiting for my screams to migrate like geese to my rigid vocal cords.
Before it’s too late. Before I can’t hear the rhythm of the earth on my pine
prison anymore. Before the residents of the dirt eat me alive, after the precious
sinews of my sleeping heart. But I’ll wait patiently until then. Until my pleas are
audible and my fingers can claw their way to the light that awaits outside this
dark wooden nightmare. Waiting for my air to be gone. Or maybe for my kind
of catatonic finale.
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