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"zils" poems
my hands tremble. if you were to attach zils to their sides, you’d hear a tambourine shaking away, though you wouldn’t find any discernible beat. my heart and my breath compete to see which runs faster-- the tortoise and the hare, except there is no tortoise; only two extremely motivated hares. all moisture has evaporated from my mouth, leaving a vacuum. a vacuum my voice can’t travel through because sound needs a medium, and fear-- palpable, ensconcing me, coiling around me like a constrictor does its prey; its tendrils poking and prodding and pushing, trying to find chinks, holes, so like an octopus it can squeeze through no matter how small the defect, how small the weakness, and wrap itself around my heart, entomb it, and squeeze, bleeding me out from the inside-- doesn’t count, unfortunately. my lips are a vice, the first line of defense against the fear; my teeth, clamped together, my second, each tooth a dutiful soldier standing behind a wall, watching and waiting for the enemy to come over. gravity tugs, pulling me down, and my legs fold, weariness a pin poking holes and letting out all the air, forcing me down faster. my eyes blur, the fragmented, washed-out world i see--objects smushed together until they aren’t anything anymore; colors bleeding into one another until everything is the same-- reflecting what’s in my head. i close them and the world is gone--except i can still hear it, taste it, smell it, and i sit there, head between my knees, as i wait for it to be over.
0
Aug 13, 2017
Aug 13, 2017 at 3:20 AM UTC
ayesha_roleyes
overwhelmed
my hands tremble. if you were to attach zils to their sides, you’d hear a tambourine shaking away, though you wouldn’t find any discernible beat. my heart and my breath compete to see which runs faster-- the tortoise and the hare, except there is no tortoise; only two extremely motivated hares. all moisture has evaporated from my mouth, leaving a vacuum. a vacuum my voice can’t travel through because sound needs a medium, and fear-- palpable, ensconcing me, coiling around me like a constrictor does its prey; its tendrils poking and prodding and pushing, trying to find chinks, holes, so like an octopus it can squeeze through no matter how small the defect, how small the weakness, and wrap itself around my heart, entomb it, and squeeze, bleeding me out from the inside-- doesn’t count, unfortunately. my lips are a vice, the first line of defense against the fear; my teeth, clamped together, my second, each tooth a dutiful soldier standing behind a wall, watching and waiting for the enemy to come over. gravity tugs, pulling me down, and my legs fold, weariness a pin poking holes and letting out all the air, forcing me down faster. my eyes blur, the fragmented, washed-out world i see--objects smushed together until they aren’t anything anymore; colors bleeding into one another until everything is the same-- reflecting what’s in my head. i close them and the world is gone--except i can still hear it, taste it, smell it, and i sit there, head between my knees, as i wait for it to be over.
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