Not slowly, like sand washing up on shore, but rather all at once.
Like a bubble blown up too big,
Like a shaken bottle of soda with a loose cap,
Like a needle on a freshly blown balloon,
Like a KNIFE on a BREATHING RIB CAGE.
A second before disaster.
But the question is,
Who
Will
Push
The
NEEDLE?
No one does.
I return home deflated. A needle cannot end me now.
I wish someone would open the cap, pop the bubble,
But there is no knife on my breathing rib cage.
Apr 22, 2020
Apr 22, 2020 at 9:36 PM UTC
Not slowly, like sand washing up on shore, but rather all at once.
Like a bubble blown up too big,
Like a shaken bottle of soda with a loose cap,
Like a needle on a freshly blown balloon,
Like a KNIFE on a BREATHING RIB CAGE.
A second before disaster.
But the question is,
Who
Will
Push
The
NEEDLE?
No one does.
I return home deflated. A needle cannot end me now.
I wish someone would open the cap, pop the bubble,
But there is no knife on my breathing rib cage.
