I respect therapists like I respect anthropologists, they dig and encounter an ampersand, they can always inform beforehand and foreshadow results, but they found my bones below 6 feet and can’t form an answer, they knew where to search they found the ticking finger pointing at lazy fissures, and buried blisters but dripping shovels keep raising a faded flag that says “they’re nothing here keep moving”
I feel your breath on my skin shivering into my skull infesting my thoughts. you claw at the inside of my ribcage spiraling sharpness ripping my flesh wide open.
he's a skeleton's shadow born from human remains black stained wrists of all mistakes he's ever made. his face is distorted sinking in red static masked by a trance of blurry panic. hollow demon eyes his cold stare is deadly I no longer cry feeling so empty. hissing in silence a serpent's tongue of my only friend a lonely one, will catch his breath and count to ten until blankness subsides and the parade begins. swallow me whole he's all that I know I can't bear to hear deafening, slow, "no fear," we chant. no fear.
Am I distant, I am in the room, But I don't feel there, I am speaking, But the real words don't come out, Do people recognize me, If I die today, Would anyone realize, I'm trapped in my head, Screaming to tell people how I feel, I need help, Help, HELP!