save me from myself, please
i’ve duct taped over my mouth
and there’s no clear way out
i’m not sure i’m breathing.
the hallway stretches out
seemingly, an endless path of doubt
or a corridor of claustrophobia
no, i don’t think i’m breathing
she swallows me whole,
and i always fall in the swell--
drowning down the well
i choose to hold my breath
words relentlessly tear off of the pages
tears leave stains on my face
though they burn, i embrace them
i watch them fall, and i struggle to breathe
crimson blood flows through my veins
reflecting in a gold mirror, I am vain.
permission to write on my flesh and body,
but i dare not breathe.
shrieks and shouts howl about
and the night is cold without you
when alone, i dream of all my doubts
the covers suffocate my breathing.
i recognize my patterns as
your stoic look is telling
there are concerns. i know.
I can’t breathe.
as resistant as i am
still you force me to come over,
i’m disappointed when you’re sober.
push it down, so much further
stray away from the logical brain;
creatively, try to numb all the pain.
and even after all of that,
i can’t even breathe.