did they tell you that
your nails aren't meant for climbing they are meant for tearing out your hair in the middle of the night when the voices get too much and you can taste your future crumbling into little pieces of chalk, or maybe thats your teeth because you have a habit of grinding them when your anxious and your mouth is dry and your eyes are overflowing but not as badly as the panic which is seeping out of your ears your pores the palms of your hands your mouth
no wait,
you're shouting.
but its quiet, theres ringing and your throat hurts but not like yesterday in the car when you were singing out your heart to Cher with your best friend and when it hurt you were laughing not crying so not like this no.
YOU ARE READING
how to not die alone(on hold)
Poetryin this act i attempt to write ¿poems? i think,
