my lungs are whispering
softly, quietly
telling me secrets they heard
from my heart's beating
i cover my ears
trying to block out the murmurs
but the words slip past the gaps in my fingers
and slither in to my ears

my ankles are chafed
and stained with red
you look me in the eye
and rub dirt in to my wounds.

the reason why
some people hate poetry
is because we tell the  t
                                         r
                                             u
                                                  t
                                                      h

which is what they most fear.

only in the thick heat of summer
do I start to miss
winter's frosty bite.

I say I am okay
I am peaceful
blue waves slipping on to gritty blankets

but I know, deep down inside,
that Hysteria is bubbling on the edges of Her cauldron
she crackles and tells me to think of Her

she is lava
scalding and burning your tongue
lapping at the edges of my heart

I try to shove her away
but she eats my fingertips
exposing white bone

"lovely," my voice seeps out
under 3 blankets and 4 layers of darkness
"don't leave. I'd be empty without you."

and her carefully planned words leak in to my ear,
"darling," comforting in the chasm
"I'd never leave you."

I checked my coat pockets
but I can't seem to find
my motivation.
where did it go?
nothing but scraps and an imagination filled my drawers
I call for it
or I try to
my voice is a faint mist across the mountain tops
"motivation," my sigh escapes
"come back
I can't seem to find you
anywhere
and I
want to
stop looking."

So delicate
Fragile
A glass figurine, standing on tiptoe
Frozen in a ballerina's dance
One gentle tap
And it shatters
Glass shards
Cover every surface
Digging in to the soles of the feet
Surrounding it.