The space between us is congested
with all of our unspoken words. I
breathe them in, feel the way
they cut down my throat as I swallow
my thoughts, choking silently. They explode
inside my chest, forcing
their way through my ribcage, shattering
the very framework of my body, until
shards of my own bones embed
themselves in my heart. They burn
inside my stomach, fueling
the automaton I have become, making my
movements strong, jagged, hasty, making
my smile too loud, my laughter
too jarring. Can you
feel them, too, or is this just
what you call air?