My chest expands,
Its words coming through seams,
Forcing through, breaking
Holes of an inflated head.

Each page of my consciousness is
Filled with unending sentences,
Hurrying through the paper and
Scrawling over the sides.
A book of emotion, devoid of expression.

The spine of my mind is dying,
Too long has it supported such pain,
Chaos has withered its soul and
Mine follows it closely.

The thick, heavy novel cannot
Handle more chapters, and
Cracks at the next turn.
Words spill out,
Like blood,
Wet and
Cold.