Paper Basket

My eyes and ears breath in poison particles which are pushed to my shoulders where they are converted into little metal spheres.
The process burns but the particles cannot be moved until this is done.
The spheres roll down my shoulder blades and into a spiral slide that winds down my spinal cord.
The sphere glow with red heat as they wind around the spinal cord with effortless speed.
At the end of the slide, the small spheres are dropped into a paper basket that hangs by a string from the center of my chest.
The addition of each metal sphere adds painful weight to the basket which pulls on my chest.
Did she break a promise today?
One more bearing down the slide and into the basket.
Will the basket hold the weight it is given?
Each bearing adds a little more strain to the structure.
Do I let it break and cling to a nonfunctional system or do I cut the string and build a new basket?
The paper basket isn’t mine to throw away and the string has become increasingly short over the years.
Then again, if the basket holds and the string doesn’t, I may lose the whole thing.
I’ll keep adding these little spheres to an already stressed basket and pray we built it strong enough to bare the burden it is under.