Poems

A bad day.

A bad day.
by: Clara Clara Cecilia Cordero

Some days I'm walking on water and others I'm drowning and I forget how to swim.
Depression bites me and it's like an animal who has rabies; and rabies it's anxiety and the pain from the animal hurts and burns and I can't help but touch the wounds and the rabies spreads trough your whole body consuming me whole without an escape. But I'm chained to a body that works as a cage where I hide and I see myself shrink inside my thoracic jail.
I want to get away between the ribs but I'm too big and my hands are too small to go between them.
I want to break them and break free but I can't because rabies had me caught between wall and sword. My emotions are the sharp sword that's pressing against my jugular stopping the blood from going to my brain, that has a consequence, a lightheaded anxiety that makes me feel like everything around me spins super fast at a slow motion where time becomes useless and I know I should care but I can't seem to bring any sense to me. Yet I walk in a dark cold tunnel, tunnel I can't see the end of. Yet the tunnel gets tighter and I'm claustrophobic. And due to my claustrophobia I start to sweat cold and feel my hands shake and my skin to itch.
I want to scratch free from my skin and I can't bring myself to more pain. By accident I touch my wounds again and tears fly free creating an ocean of silence, anxiety and pain. A salted ocean that burns my open cuts around my legs and my neck; and I drown trying to scream. Oh no, but I never scream.
I have to stay silent cause I will bother others. I can't be the cause for someone else's bother and waste of time. So I stay silent and crawl into bed wishing tomorrow I could walk on salted water again, avoid the bite and hide away the rabies. But for today... please don't be you the one who holds the sharp sword against my skin.