sick and lonely
like dirt crawling up the sides of my head
diseased eyes
diseased heart
a chest that can't move up or down,
stuck in the expanse in the middle
enough to breathe but not enough to live.

highs, followed by lows
followed by a moment of standstill when i just
stand
still searching the lines on my hands for  answers.
- i won't find them

my bones are confused
nerves twisted all together
though oxygen makes everything better.
i'm only aware of being lonely when i'm around you
and you, and you, and you, and you, and you
and everyone else.
- that's why i don't want to hang around.

by myself
staring at my own feet
because i have no one else's to look at
the sky doesn't have feet
the trees still tower
my friendship group is a little less than human, but a little more than aching hard
they give me space to breathe, and a little spot for my own thoughts to fill
and at least they'll still be there
when something falls apart.