There's a choke in my gut
That just must be released
But the open window
Will not let it free
The itch in my throat
           leads to coughs
Will make them think
I hear their whispers
And I loathe them
A bit more than I
loathe the rest.
My chest
Catches the rock
Like a child
in a basket

'why?'

No one can answer
They don't know either
They cannot
even hear
Their own thoughts
drown them loudly

How can I step
back up to where I stood?
I know what I must do,
But I cannot.

Spring must come
Because the sun is missing.