I’m not sure if this is allowed, but this is a second entry to Exhibit A’s Song Lyric Prompt.
I may change the title (I’m terrible at titles), but this came from a combination of Inhale the Anxiety and What’s the Point in Always Looking Back?
A little solo something. Now I need to get out of bed.
She needed not to think. To fall out of herself for a day, an hour, a minute. She sellotaped her poor, battered heart back into her ribcage and lay down on the bed.