i know that i am how i am because of my eyes
and what they are saying.
dark, they are, stretched and translucent --
my blues are pulsing in and out of greens
and greys
my eyes, they droop wistfully, as if
to say "i am alone, all alone here, only i know what this is and will be"
fingertips. to fingertips.
i move my face in closer, so slowly and slowly still,
and i exhale.
my lips are dry and flaking, sliding
over hostile teeth and stinging jaw.
that bone whose vibrations claw back, back into my head, the
sharp hurt, the crash, the dull aftershocks. and i keep moving.
ignoring the animal groan of my heart, my
quickening heart, rattling frantically round my
ribcage, looking for a way
(any way, please, any way at all)
to get outside. it is smothering in
this dank and musty room. my
ribs scream shrilly to my spine, "forget!"
forget all it knows
especially this --
and my eyes. black and cavernous.
my sad eyes.
too weary, too hopeless, to do anything but
wilt
shrivel and
stare in disappointment.