I am exhausted
from staying up
each night trying
to drown out the
voices in my head
that give me every
reason not to.
from staying up
each night trying
to drown out the
voices in my head
that give me every
reason not to.
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My universe is
infinite and spreads in every direction, as yours, too, sprawls outwards from your body, and no matter how far we drift, I can find at my edges a sliver of space where we overlap, and still more that does not. I could have dreamt of leaving,
leaning my head on your shoulder and watching black become light become black that swallows. Creeping it's way closer until our toes and then our knees and then our fingers, crossed, became part of its soft emptiness. Whatever is occupying my mind
is scratching it's way out from inside of my head and I can feel it between my folds and hurling itself against my frontal lobe and the cold isn't helping but the time is, because I can feel the gaps in my thoughts now and the spaces, perhaps, are greater somehow. And I can't turn-off the run-on, but I can summon the courage to suppress the urges to binge and purge; I'll just indulge childish temptations and resist the satisfying sensations of release until the sheets of snow blanket the hills and all I can see, for miles, is white. |
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November 2019
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