into the
   glitter of
your own
               (un)holy
                       shimmer—
            a reckless
   riot of
jo(y)
       that burns
too bright
          and leaves
   you hollow
   like a house
after the
          storm

   oh!
to feel alive is
   unbearable
       (the world
sings)
          in your veins
   a song
           you never
   learned to hold
     (the weight
of breath)
          like a
     broken elevator
   plummeting
into the dark
               basement
       of you

“i’m fine,” you say
                     “this time”
       (you promised)
but here you are—
   back in the
      hollow,
           dragging
the weight
        of your
    own
   lies

it tastes like
rust, regret,
      (the blackness)
sleeping feels
like sinking—
   how do you tell
them you’d
        rather not
   wake tomorrow?

“i’m sorry”
        sticks in your
throat;
they want your
           light
but you’re out,
   out like
   a flickering
candle
          (the itch,
   the need)
to chase the
   next high,
               a needle,
     a prayer—
and still,
    it spits you out
           again,
this cycle,
   this sickness,
        this burden
      no one asked for

you sleep, hoping
to find a softer
   somewhere—
far from the
      endless climb
and the crash,
   wanting to rest
forever,
         but you wake,
            again.
and again,
   and again.