upon the witching hour,
the delirious stroke of noon...
i promptly
lost
my
mind.

i rambled up and down the library isles
trying to find
somewhere to hide.
all my precious yellow cubbies
were full of degenerates
texting on their phones
talking too loudly
for a library
unknowing of the fact
that if i didn't have my yellow cubby
i didn't have an anchor.

i guess i'm ok now
some odd, flightly demon
tried me on for a bit
made it hard to breathe
hard to think
hard to
be
but once i looked in the mirror
saw my freckles
my speckled eyes
my friendly nose
i knew
what i was once more.
it wasn't the one girl standing next to me, washing her chapped hands
talking to me about english class
that brought me back
it was me
all me.
i raised myself
from the dead
all i did

was lift my head.