Young Writers Society

i'm sick

i tell you this after you've come home from work,
after you've kicked off your shoes and stretched out on the couch
your eyes droop. you're tired, i know
but i've been keeping this inside me for too long,
like a bird trapped in a cage,
hammering at my ribs and pulling them apart

a reluctant shift in my direction
you study me with distant eyes
you look fine, you say
it's not that

it's inside of me, a different kind of sickness
it comes in waves, first pooling in the recesses of my feet
and rises, quickly, steadily
i tell you how it eventually brings me under,
how it takes me below, to places i can't even begin to describe
and before you tell me to fight it, believe me, i do
some days, my feet continue to kick, despite the pressure
of the void below, pulling me down
my hands move until they find something and they hold on
and eventually, it passes
but other days, it's just too much
the lifeline breaks or the current coils, like a snake, around my foot
and it rips me away from the shore and pulls me out to sea

you don't understand
i see the way you look at me as i speak
like a deer trapped in the headlights
you look for a way out; just admit it, i think
admit you don't understand, or that you don't want to
admit that you just don't want to deal with this, not now, not ever
you're tired, i know
i can see the way you fold into yourself
all you want to do is sleep, and here i am,
opening cans of worms and stuffing them into your mouth
making you accept it, asking you to understand
you don't

you get up and make your way over to me
to bed, you say. time to rest and sleep, you're sick
soup for dinner, now don't complain darling
you don't look so well after all

water is creeping up my legs
i tell you that's not what i meant
i just told you what it was, don't you see?
it's not something food can fix
sleep just makes it worse
i need you to listen, to understand
don't shove me into bed, don't push away the truth
please, won't you just-

you're talking over me now
i am sick, soup and rest is what i need
up the stairs and under the sheets now, darling
sleep it off
you don't seem to notice the panic in my eyes

water is now in my lungs and i feel myself
reaching for words i can't find, dimly hearing
you roar over the sounds of crashing waves in my ears
you don't want to hear this, i know
but i can't keep my head above water anymore
i try to scream but it's now in my mouth and down my throat
and i'm swallowing more than i should

it's one of the other days
the snake coils around me
i struggle once, a bright burst of energy that quickly fades
and then it pulls me under

time moves quickly here
in with one blink of an eye, out with another

but you,
with your salt and pepper curls and your depthless blue eyes,
like the recesses of oceans i used to dip toes in
and now drown in, you make time slow down
the slow tick plays a melody, the paced tock a song,
my heartbeat as the metronome

you keep me together,
your hands are glue; i stick together when they touch me
i used to rush, from [point a] to [point b]
until you came along, arm around my shoulder,
fixating me to the ground

see, before i met you
i was high strung
head in the clouds, feet off the ground
time flew by when i did, hastily, sloppily
too close to the sun,
but you, you showed me a new point, one with no name
radiant, serene; high enough in the sky but still
i touched the earth
one hand in the air, the other with you