into the
glitter of
your own
(un)holy
shimmer—
a reckless
riot of
jo(y)
that burns
too bright
and leaves
you hollow
like a house
after the
storm
oh!
to feel alive is
unbearable
(the world
sings)
in your veins
a song
you never
learned to hold
(the weight
of breath)
like a
broken elevator
plummeting
into the dark
basement
of you
“i’m fine,” you say
“this time”
(you promised)
but here you are—
back in the
hollow,
dragging
the weight
of your
own
lies
it tastes like
rust, regret,
(the blackness)
sleeping feels
like sinking—
how do you tell
them you’d
rather not
wake tomorrow?
“i’m sorry”
sticks in your
throat;
they want your
light
but you’re out,
out like
a flickering
candle
(the itch,
the need)
to chase the
next high,
a needle,
a prayer—
and still,
it spits you out
again,
this cycle,
this sickness,
this burden
no one asked for
you sleep, hoping
to find a softer
somewhere—
far from the
endless climb
and the crash,
wanting to rest
forever,
but you wake,
again.
and again,
and again.