I don’t want to feel like I can’t breathe anymore
I don’t want to feel like the wind feels
When it tries to pass over a vent in the sidewalk

I don’t want to smell like other people anymore
I don’t want to wake up with the scent
Of thirteen-dollar cologne and sweat
Sticking to my skin like starfish to the bottom of the sea

I don’t want to be reminded of my empirical downfall
When I haven’t any sleeves to cover myself
And I can look down and see the canal of flesh
That was left behind after trying to rot it away

I don’t want my mouth to taste like coffee,
Smoke, *****, and bad wishes anymore
My eyes are burning and my throat is sore
And now glass is bursting in the small of my back

I am living inside of an invisible box
And the walls are closing in quickly
And I’m starting to forget how to breathe again