19.02.22
19:38
the doctors say your ribs won't kill you and for a while you are happy with this. it gets harder to ignore, though, the way your chest pulls when you breathe or the way your heart rattles like a pillbox. they say your ribs won't kill you and so you have dreams where a rib breaks the sharp end of it stabbing into your lung but it's fine you were taught not to remove the weapon or you'll bleed out so there it stays and your ribs don't kill you. they say your ribs won't kill you and instead protect your heart but it has too much room to move around, a dog pacing in its cage, thumping its head against the wall. your veins turn to elastic trying to pull everything back together pulling everything closer and you're imploding which is fine. the doctors say it won't kill you and so it won't kill you and so it's fine. you get weak. but weak is better than dead. weak is better than dead most of the time.
YOU ARE READING
words don't come that easy.
PoesíaI've tried. but i've always failed to contain these thousand words in a few sentences, maybe im bad at expressing macro feelings in the few words that I'm limited to. you might think you know me enough because it's been a long time since i first wav...
