(no subject)
of and by me
crooked sternum leaves my chest sunken in
(on one side, above my right breast.)
some-thing(-one) is, at any moment,
caving in. these imperfections reveal
that i am human, not fawn, wandering
driven to sweat&tears trying to find a trail,
any trail to focus on, until i can breathe.
to hold one's hand, means to drive another away
and by the end of the night i am drowning in
guilty truths unspoken, cigarettes & coffee,
broken promises, and bite marks i can't rub off;
hand-holding gone too far. now my own palms are
clutched together, a form of prayer that involves
quiet tears and clenched teeth and flat-out begging.
love spread too thin has me speaking
when there is nothing to be said.