tingling. my fingers warn me
that anxiety is nibbling
that my heart is transforming
it beats then tweets
a bird locked in a rib cage
That is rapidly shrinking
feathers fall as wings beat fast
a cage that grips the bird at last
I gasp for air and feel the choke
my hands cover my mouth
I know that I will faint if i
let air in again
faster
faster
faster
until I feel the bird passing
my rib cage loosens grip
my hearbeat take
a sweet doves place
a little sad
and more worn then before
and I am forced to take this
Scared, torn and beaten *****
as a token that says life
can just be living sometimes

I look inside a mirror and see
frigid ice crystalize around an iris
Reflecting this coldness
chilling my spine and reminding me of loneliness
even when its taciturn pools
of tears sent ripples
laughter fled and long missed giggles
my eyes see winter
where they once saw
wildfire dancing
and doves sing songs

I look into the my hands
each fold of skin hiding secrets
every etched out finger print
like a deciphered  map
trying to take me to a place I haven’t been yet
perhaps 3D puzzle
that fingers haven’t fit yet
every short torn nail
every cuticle
looking for a space to fill
is as sad as the heart and eyes before them
I beat. I look. I feel
its all so hard right now
to be a living declaration
given word to life’s just living