I am a wilting flower.
I am over-watered, hung heavy.
I am the blackish-blue in your eyes after a flash.  Splotchy, blinding, lacking clarity.
I am the looks you receive and the smiles you don’t when you enter a room
I am the ringing in your ears, the sharp alarm
of your eardrum dying.
I am the weight in your stomach, a cowbell sitting above your bladder.
I am the cold.
I am the frigid wind at 5 a.m. on a February morning.
I am the dark, suffocating, all-encompassing feeling of being smothered beneath a pillow.
I am the frostbite which makes your fingers swell and feel like needle jabs.
I am the exact-o knife against your skin.
I am the beads of blood.
I am the slice which opens up when you pull on my lips, revealing the muscle inside.
I am the wall which stares back as you sit staring.
I am the voice in your head which cycles over and over.
I am the rotten banana peel left on the lunch table for the janitor.
I am the wreaking garbage on your curb.
I am the abandoned wrapper everyone steps over but no one picks up.
I am the dried gum stuck to the sidewalk and under desks.
I am the drowsiness, the lack of concentration, the sadness.
I am the numbness, the lead in your limbs, the cramps in your back.
I am the constipation and the nausea.  
I am the headaches which press into your temples.
I am the thoughts and the quiet holding you to the bed.  
I am the used ****** left in the vineyard.
I am the empty roads and stoplights after dark.
I am the fist which clenches your heart.
I am the suffocation.
I am the loneliness.
I am the fear.
I am the self-hatred.
I am the weight.
I am the loss.
I am the spreading.
I am the increasing while you decrease.
I am the dark cloud.
I am the thunderstorm.
I am the heavy rain on your windshield on the highway.  I am the broken windshield wipers. you cannot see anymore.
I am the empty cavity in your chest.
I am the remembered, you are the forgotten. .