high tide panic/ 61

I’m sick of my mind, sick of

its inability to let me live, sick of

the worry that envelopes it, the

panic that chains it, I’m sick 

of me, sick of dreaming of

cutting myself, sick of trying

to make myself smaller, sick

of shaking hands and a 

good for nothing body, I’m sick

of this life, it fits like a shirt 

that shrunk in the wash, which

is to say, I can’t fit into it 

without ripping it, and so I’m 

sick of it, sick of calling myself

a poet but being unable to 

write, sick of trying to be good

at things, and failing, I’m sick

of thinking so much. All I 

want is for my mind to fall silent,

for the incessant demons to 

cease their talk for a minute,

all I want is to be able to breathe

without feeling like I’m drowning.

All I want is to feel calm, instead

all I feel is high tide panic, all

I see are the waves, preparing

to overwhelm me.

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reminder/ 60

I’ve lost count now, lost count

of the number of times I’ve looked

at you and smiled, of the number

of times you said something

and my heart dropped seven

stories down, lost count of

how many times I’ve wanted to

kiss you, wanted to hold you,

wanted to be near you, guess

this love is no longer quantifiable,

and that’s okay, because even

as the numbers elude me,

you stay- In my head, memories

with you bloom so often now,

it feels like spring even in this

parched weather, and I guess 

that’s how I feel about you, like

you’re a pleasant reminder that

this life, this life is not all bad.

metaphors/ 59

So a pair of too tight jeans fit

me perfectly now, and I see it 

as a metaphor for growth. 

See it as a metaphor for

evolution, when truly it’s just 

me going backwards, me

shrinking, me falling into 

a pattern that’s more dangerous

than I even know. Guess it’s

a metaphor for being unhealthy, but

my butterfly body doesn’t care,

it’s too afraid to fly so it lets

it’s wings droop, frail from 

disuse, and I don’t eat- let 

this be a metaphor for peeling

away my skin like I’m a fruit, for

shaving my soul just to make it

weigh a little less, let this be 

a metaphor for fading away.