Poetry Puzzle Pieces

Why I can't breathe

I can't breathe 

thought that part is obvious 

There are crushing walls surrounding me built from my sticks and stones I collected. 

Do you know why they call them 'sticks and stones' 

The cute little phrase that used to give me the power of the suns rays 

is actually an escape route 

but not for the child. 

No, not at all- 

The parents utter 

'sticks and stones' 

but they do not want to deal with the emotional clutter

for they do not care that Jenny ripped my tights and pulled my hair. 

I still can't breathe. 

This time its the heaving pile of books on my back. 

it is not physical strength, but emotional I lack. 

each step I am winded and wounded by the 

pieces of paper and names of the authors 

and tiny tiny pre-words and acknowledgements stab my spine

again and again over a thousand times 

and I cry. 

I can't breathe. 

The lack of breath is replaced by the salty swirls of my bitter tears on my tongue 

I haven't truly cried since October. 

I let the tears stream down and down and down my face 

they fall 

and keep falling 

See, I am a silent crier. 

You wouldn't even notice 

no words leave my lips as the tears stream in flowing rivers 

normal people would deal with this by drowning out their livers 

but I stumble and sit 

humbled and it 

is was really really takes my breath. 

Each fucking morning I can't breathe. 

Its the crushing weight of disappointment that sits on an old mans shoulders 

its the laundering leech and satan spawn on his left and right

somewhere is a golden glow but honestly

I don't know. 

i don't know why I can't breathe. 

Stick three fingers down and heave 

but that still doesn't help 

and words again fail me short 

and my image, self-esteem and feelings being to contort. 

soon I'll fall to the floor, 

gasping for the air that was yet to reach my lungs 

gasping for the words that sat on my tongue. 

holding onto memories 

even the ones that cut like glass

and leave scars on my palms 

the scars you see now 

as I lay, blue in the face 

choked and broken by the smallest pebble.