Some days I want.

I want so much that my bones crack and my muscles cramp and my breath feels too shallow

Like me.

Not enough

Not enough

Not enough.

(potential is the kind of word that suffocates you)



Some days I don’t want.

I don’t want so much that I lose myself in the hollows of my back and let myself echo in the folds of my skin.

It is too much. And still

Not enough

Not enough

Not enough.

(Want is more of a volume than a light switch)