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"

I'm too much in my head,
I lie too much in this bed.

Thinking about what hasn't
been said, it's all in my head.
        
I’m running out of time.
This heart is cold, it’s midnight.
Waiting for everything to be alright.

  I can’t get out of my head.
  I can’t get out of my bed.

My brain is tired, it has been wired.
I can’t count on anyone around.
Im stuck in my head, losing friends.

  Why can’t I be fine.

This underlying disease, I can’t feel my knees, I beg them please.
I feel the sun creeping in.
Don’t sleep bow my friend, it’s awakening again.

  I can’t get out of my head.
  I cant get out of this bed.

We don’t get any peace, even when we sleep, we still dream.

Fluttering Insides
Dizzy Head
Take a step
Do not fall
Right there it is
That which you seek
But my mind
Is playing with me
Feet of lead
Loss of words
I cannot do this
Collapse without words

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.

It hits like a bullet.
Caught off guard,
Triggered by the circumstance,
Fuelled with the negative thought,
Your mind starts to race and all sense is blur.

It hits like a tsunami.
One second you could breathe,
The next your nostrils and mouth is forced shut,
Your insides are burning,
You’re crashing against sorrows
And there’s oh so much desperation
For the need to simply
Breathe.

When the feeling is this intense
You won’t know what hit you.

You're not my type
Not in the slightest
But yet, there you are making me ever so nervous
And yet, here I am primping myself up for no reason

You're not my type
Not in the conventional ways
But yet, here you are saying my name and I blush
And yet, here I am writing about someone who doesn't notice me

You're an anomaly in my day to day functions and I am ready to explore