Someone broke my best friend’s heart. They’d been together throughout the entire lock-down. And even though it looks like we’re entering a freer time, he said it felt like she’d become part of the claustrophobia.
Explanations can snag on nerves like fishhooks.
Some explanations are just barely better than nothing.
Every breath, a weight on my chest, reluctantly comes, being chased only by my quickening pulse. A knife slips between my ribs and with every word that passes over my lips, it twists. A silent scream is trapped behind my teeth. Butterflies with knives are cutting up my insides.
Found poem from Automatic Loveletter's song "Butterflies"
Check out the other poems in the "Butterflies" series. This is a found poem. The lyrics at the bottom are not my concept. This poem was written in 2016.
These days, anxiety pools around feet And I drown, which means I wake up randomly gasping Pulling at the air, searching for a ladder Flailing in early morning As if I am trying to fly I want to fly away or pull the moon down So I can build sandcastles on its surface Then move in, taking residency up in the stars Fear comes in waves, ebbing and flowing Over my nerves, breaking down sandcastles Anxiety, a fountain, always overflowing Seeping into the corners of my eyes And I cry for a raft in this tumultuous sea
from nerves, I cannibalise my fingers my blood clots, and dries out crusty and painful yet I keep on pressing, biting because it gives me focus a sick type of satisfaction, a sense of control.
I whine tears leak out, my eyelids stuttering, Tired my fingers bit, bone exposed and ****** my fingernails and fingerprints all gone, remains lay in my stomach acid consuming the scraps of skin this is what I call my very own cannibalism.