by Angela Thomas
the further the clock's hands tick, the more my heart
separates. muscles pulled and twisted, leaking vital blood
into my chest cavity, making it harder and harder
to get the air into my lungs. my diaphragm heaving
with the sobs building in the back of my throat.
eyes red-shot, face soaked. i'm breaking in half
ever slowly as the silence rips apart my insides.
twisting stomach knots and pulsing headache,
i try to shower it off, swig from the bottle, stumble
until i succumb to darkness. embers still burn,
even through the smothering. in the morning, the fire
rages. i curl into a little ball and rock, biting my hands
between my sharp teeth to keep from screaming.
i pray for the worst already. just to begin the ascent.
Posted on 02/23/2015
Copyright © 2024 Angela Thomas