I am chaos.
I've ceased to be adjectival; I no longer embrace, but am, chaos.

My heart has been broken and glued back together in ways all the pieces were never meant to fit.

I am one million miles per hour over the speed limit, on a dead-end road, with no intention of stopping.

I'd rather not sleep, not eat, not laugh.
I'd rather get ready for the day with swollen eyes and a worn-out mind.

I just want my lungs to explode.

I just want for my eyes to slam shut.

To be still.