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Nov 2019
I miss the feelings I got from being high,
of belonging to the static in my mind.
I miss closing my eyes and just thinking,
waking up without a memory of anything
besides a feeling I only ever got with a pill
or two or ten,
but now I'm beside myself
feeling things I can't verbalize without beating the words to death,
and I can't handle any more death,
lost all my energy after creating a eulogy for everyone I tried to be.
all the butterflies in my stomach are words I swallowed once upon a time,
choked them down,
choked on them,
and I'm still trying to cough them out
all this time later.
I know breathing exercises,
but I don't think those matter when I can't catch my breath.
some things never change.
ayb
Written by
ayb
243
   Bogdan Dragos
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