the world crushes you to pieces
i wanted to be an altoid
because who doesn't love fresh breath
but everyone mistakes my dust for anthrax
and i thought we were way over that phase
but apparently short-term memory loss doesn't work with traumatic experiences
and everyone remembers
the chill in their throats, the cool air in their nostrils
when they saw
mad shoe and mailbox bombers
images on a news screen
hardly even real

i was real
and i was chewed to pieces