My home is warm, soft and wet,
It breathes, in, out, in, out,
It sings, buh-bump, buh-bump, buh-bump.
I'm comfortable in it, if a little cramped,
And I'm content to stay in it forever,
But something is changing in my home,
It's breathing has picked up pace, inoutinoutinout,
It's singing is fast, hurried, erratic, buhbumpbuhbumpbuhbump,
I'm being squished, the walls are closing in on me,
Something – my home? – is pushing me down,
I'm confused. What's happening?
My head hits something, then pushes out,
I feel something cold – nothomenothome! – hit the top of my head,
I'm pushed further out, and further out,
My head is surrounded by the cold,
Echoes of sounds – not my home's singing – deafen me,
I don't understand them, though one sound is even louder than the rest,
It's familiar, like I've heard it before, but I can't remember where,
The cold is assaulting my stomach and the tops of my legs,
My feet are still in the warmth of my home,
Then they're out, and the cold is overwhelming,
So, I scream, my throat aching with the unfamiliar feeling,
And hot water leaks out of my eyes,
Suddenly, the cold is gone,
I'm surrounded by scratchy warmth – not home! –
I'm moved around, making me dizzy, the placed in something even warmer,
I'm pulled close to the something, and that's when I hear it,
The singing – buhbump, buhbump, buhbump,
The breathing – in,out,in,out,in,out,
And that's when I realize,
I'm home.