he pulled me over
because my hands shook so bad i swerved
left and right
drunk
on my panic attack
his badge flashed
like that earring He wore
the night He scarred my soul
the officer touched my hand to pull me out of it
to bring me back to reality
ma'am, are you okay? i'm here. take deep breaths.
i screamed so hard
other cars pulled over to help
because every hand feels the same
no matter their intentions
hair streaked with daggers
and iron filling her lungs
each breath a shot of poison
that makes me want to run
but running makes it worse
she gets off on the fighting back
so i have to stay completely still and be willing
to ache and burn and die
until the opportunity comes that i can finally hide
my eyes must be rose-colored
for thinking you stopped,
thinking it was safe to breathe,
safe to live again.
no matter how long it lasts,
the peace always ends.
Silence the ringing! quieter! quieter! I can't hear myself!
It's squeezing and clutching! Tugging and hurting!
I can't breathe, I-I can't. Breathe!
the reaper is waiting,
intently staring,
relishing.
Yet, I linger.
the enemy, do you see it? Right there!
can you see it? I gotta escape
the toxicity, it's infesting my mind,
I'm not okay.
crimson creeping up,
sweat dripping down,
I'm quivering,
I'm perishing,
Stuttering, "why is the bed shaking so wildly??"
Just when you think,
life couldn't get any worse,
you try to end it.
Just to be forced to breathe again.
Depression.
Something so strong
But yet so weak at the same time.
It weighs you down.
It holds you back.
It feels...
It feels like a dead body.
Like carrying a dead body
On your shoulders
Everyday.
It occupies your time
You don't want to eat
You can't sleep
Hard to breath.
Maybe you're the dead body.
Maybe you're
The way with June is this:
it ends
(and first it's my sister's birthday)
then it ends
Today in the smell of
elderberry blossoms
today in the colour of
rice crispies on a steel spoon of milk
today in the hand of
putty & windowglass of
getting confused/fingers/putty oil/ not really finding/
a way/looks bad/keeps falling out/the depth/of the
impossibility/thickness/frush/fruss/infinite heartless
boredom/shit/frustration
of desire to know/therefore control
Or Awhile
though the mocking wire
slew the greenness of your voice
The vibrant plastic
struck my ear crying
and if only this clay machine
owned me
Next the actual mouth of you
I'd have fled in your breath
frail as dandelion.
I'm still breathing
after everything
Moving on
Is like finally being able to breathe
And dear God
Is the fresh air nice
Black
Black looks like a life leaving a man’s eyes
Black sounds like the last whisper of breath
Black smells like death is coming
Black taste like decaying flesh
Black is the feeling you get at the end of it all