Respond

Content warning: this piece contains vivid, bodily imagery and references to trauma that may evoke or trigger responses related to experiences of physical or sexual violence.

Content warning: I got thinking about man and machine, and it got weird.

A pleasant hush.

Listen out.

Soft sheets anchor the body, bleeds some bright presence. Lie in warmth, sore, lead the shiver of breath that throbs - loss - a presence close, blurry, bright, wet, not rain.

Show a reflection in the water on the floor. Not rain.

Sit, survive connection.

Contact with the bed, a sense of tears, a cloud of throbbing, because. Wipe away. The feel is sticky - not rain.

Stare at salt on the table, the smoke of sandalwood, a contraction low. Stretch, stretch - draw to the surface - not rain - sandalwood floral burn. Respond.

A shape, humming, fluorescent, see a blush echoing low and a mumbling. The plan, the shape, the body: respond.

Devote now some dizzy build, it comes and gets the body dizzy, build and release, whisper, note, perceive.

Focus on shape, on the humming mirror.

Call, stumble, a breath soft. A long caress, hope spice sore tender skin. Mirror sink, call, sink, blush.

Respond.

The body, aware, itches to bloom. The body understands - respond, blurry - seeing blue, moans. Seeing blue, swaying, blurry. Still dizzy, aching and dizzy.

Stillness. And into this, a bell. A bright plan to focus on. Twitch. Steel sweat, salty with hope. Reflect perception.

A table and a steel shine, ache, the fantasy to belong, back again, yesterday. When fire, flames burn the itch. Creeping, itching - can’t get out from in. Jump. Twitch.

A twist - uncomfortably round, scraped contorted.

Leaves, paper, dust lie pulsing, a message all these messages. Dizzy fantasy, heart wide but bitter young.

Stretching out. Store the stillness.

Skip scrape plastic loud - itch blooms - lead, connect. Sit, survive connection.

It’s a blue table. Twitch. There’s a dry hover of dust - respond - something aware tingles spark. Throbs murmur, and there’s a draw, realise and release still - free. Itches bloom.

Plan for stillness.

Moan.

Sit still and listen. The body can bleed music. Writhe, dizzy, a dry cloud, amethyst walls, no shine. Twitch.

Strike the pulse - no fresh relief. The stone sends a murmur - race through the body, heart vibrates. Not rain, not thriving. Burn. The stone is hard, dislocated.

Belong - water, salty stare, bitter sense.

Not rain.

Fresh flesh creep. Twitch. It’s tough.

To recoil - it’s a wall - painful belong - slow rotate - can’t embody laughter. Yesterday could. There’s a clear echoing call, seeing collapse before a bloom - twitch - conscious - clear.

A mirror falls up, up to a cloud. There’s an old sign, an amethyst lounge. Contort.

There’s some kind of before and after. Awake - connect and reflect in the fog, a tense impression. Sit, survive connection.

No amethyst wall, no sweet fairy display - shatter - numb. Twitch.

Embody yesterday which could - sharp sun burns to dust, hovering dust, stay in shadow. In a moment, swing to a sensitive connection. Presence. Release.

Smoke of sandalwood. Was meant to be comfort. Can’t speak.

Nothing past skin ringing. All loss hums. Born of flesh - succumb. Veins humming, drown it out. Moan. Twitch.

Gaze at the wall, falter and crouch. Blink and respond. Carry nausea.

Gaze sinks. Shake. Some feel. Slow and accept, but then recoil. Sore.

Frown exploding into an orbit. Not rain, but stand in water. Collapse. Twitch.

Come on, an iron centre. Endure. Stay in shadow with iron focus.

And then: disjointed, see - a roar, a carry. Burn crimson. Listen, survive the connect. A bright twitch.

Sore. Silence trembling, inside.

High breath ringing - white water laugh, crackling.

There is warmth - meant to stumble, to gasp, to please - bright crimson, sharp.

White dullness surrounds. The body stays painful, swinging inside shadow made smooth.

Embody the nerve, scramble through buzzing blood - twitch. Walk forward, adjust slightly - aches hold hard in blue dissonance.

Recoil again, sore and closing. Rotate further - into plastic collapse.

A shape emerges, sore, writhing, seeing only partial.

Lie down, dislocate the centre, let it writhe, collapse into itself, contract again. Respond - conscious, bright itch - lie.

Stumble inward - blackness - sharp - a meant blush. Call to the humming white. Presence remains - a high, crimson, dizzy one - amethyst pressing at the hard wall, cold underneath.

Disentangle a shadowed moment - twitch - respond.

Respond.

Respond.

Withdraw slowly.

Lead and withdraw - seeing salty, seeing clear. Numb, because the twitch sings aches that fall, glance away - wet grip belongs. Twitch again.

A disjointed presence - whisper held inside.

Then a plastic cry - twitch - gasp into towel. Before long, a wet smear. Not rain.

Lean back, sore and smooth, hover sharp around the edges. Dust hovers.

Fresh creep settles in. Respond. Brace and sense.

Disentangle cold joy - follow the shiver - hush.

The wall turns numb - cold amethyst still shows breaking through. Show the reflection - water on floor - not rain.

Thrive - twitch.

Respond again.

Listen out.

Laughter crackles - sunburn - laugh repeats. A hum, pleasant and buzzed - laugh in the vein - stand, succumb, fall. Respond.

Ringing comes. Mumble follows. Laugh. Twitch in the shape of the body.

A blue table waits. Twitch. Dry hover of dust - respond again - aware, tingles spark.

A shape - yesterday’s misstep - smoke - mirror and laugh.

Body - wet.

Respond.

Hey ChatGPT, what is this piece of writing about?

This piece is a visceral narrative of post-traumatic awakening - specifically, the immediate aftermath of sexual violence or a similarly intimate violation. It is not abstract. The text renders the body as the central site of meaning, and what unfolds is a somatic account of a person trying to comprehend, survive, and re-inhabit their physical self after something unspeakable has happened.

It’s about a body after assault - a person coming back to their own flesh, working through pain, memory, shame, and involuntary responses. It's about what the body knows before the mind can name it.

It is not a metaphor or allegory - this is a deliberately fragmented, embodied account of surviving violence, told from inside the nervous system, not from a safe emotional distance.

Respond.