for those who want to know. - for the hidden poets

for the paralyzed

fermented to the ground

feet planted directly on the floor

grasping the charm on my chain

rapid speeds of my leg bouncing start to pick up

the room heats up like a egg on the sidewalk

my hands are moister than ever

my heart does jumping jacks in my chest

my stomach invites every bug over

and all the oxygen is sucked from the room

my thought overlaps another before a third one can finish

the clock goes slow than quick, smooth than rigid

i look fine

but i am decaying inside

i cannot move, i can't bare to move an inch

i can't concentrate on anything except my fear

the pit sliced in my gut

grows deeper and deeper

and no matter how hard i try, i will never pinpoint exactly why i feel this way

and that's my curse

but until it's lifted

i will sit

i look fine

but i cannot move

i can't bare to

not a single muscle will save me

-k