rereading

15 1 0
                                    

rereading what I write

is like reading the words of a stranger


I don't know her

I am her

I am who am


the god of my brain

with no self-control

what

so

ever


and it makes the acids in my stomach sour

the back of my mouth closes

it's hard to swallow


labored breathing

labor pains

as I realize who I am

my chest swells

too tight

I am drowning

in blankets

I can't swallow


breathe in

not enough comes out

acid burns

turning

like tiny tidal waves

rolling

over dead


how could I have ever felt this way?

I don't understand people

who feel the need to find themselves


who am I?

I've always known

never looked

I don't know


how did I ever feel

the way I felt yesterday?

how did I ever feel

the way I felt tomorrow?


could I ever have been

so sad

really

when I feel so happy now?

but that happiness

is really relief


I better believe it now

happy pillWhere stories live. Discover now