I watch my breath dance through the air.
It swirls and glides beautifully until it dissipates in the wind. I take in a deep breath letting the icy air fill my stale lungs. I instantly regret it as they reject the cold in the wonderful way my lungs do. I find myself gasping for air in between the coughs. This time it knocks me to my knees. I note how striking crimson is in the snow. Slowly I drag myself to my feet. How many was that today? Five? Six? I’ve lost track ever since I’ve gotten sick there doesn’t even need to be a trigger for an attack to happen and they’ve been growing more violent by the day. I can’t say I’m not scared. In fact I’m terrified because no one knows exactly why I’m getting worse. But even that would be more bearable if I wasn’t doing it alone.

Mouth over mind;
I could have said that better.
I’m sick and I don’t know how to be helped.
I am lonely in a crowded room.
Grasping for something that
simply isn’t there.
The silence is laced with disrespect,
and the disregard leaches my hope.
Articulation like strangulation,
each sentence a new meal
shoved down my throat.
Perhaps that’s where my appetite fled,
full of past statements
out of context.
I need a break that’s not from a bat.
I need compassion that isn’t laced with guilt.
Above all else I need honesty.
Without that all I have is chaos.
I’d ask you to keep me in your mind,
among all the impulsive desires
to self-indulge.

One last ink
And this semester will end
One last ink
Pass or fail will be gone
One last ink
And I will be free from this cage
They set me in
One. Last. Ink
One step forward
To the real world—
Of another papers
Of uneven failures
Of money—
Am I ready for this?
I need another bottle of ink.