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.