too often i find myself
feeling like my head
is a balloon full of helium
tethering itself to my neck
by a ribbon curled with
an open pair of scissors

too often i find myself telling myself
that this isn’t a good way to feel,
that this is how it started last time,
that i should eat more food,
drink less coffee but more *****.

too often i taste him
underneath my fingernails and
wonder how long it will take
for my cuticles to forget him
and wonder when the nightmares
might give it a rest,
because i could use some sleep.