i curl over, pressing my
forehead to the shower floor,
gasping for air, gasping for
relief. i can no longer distinguish
between the soap and the hair
knotted between my fingers.
i no longer care if my eyes sting
of bath water or of tears. i
only know of the noose
around my lungs, and the acid
in my throat.
is not death preferred to
scraping skin from beneath
my shredded nails only to
beat my knuckles against
the wall.
my chest.
my head.

if my ribs break,
will i at least
be able
to breathe?.