I don’t feel well.
I have all these acid bath dreams
crowding up my head, the switch flick, kill me now please
breaths that I took while I was sleeping.
I want to pull away my body and find something small and perfect inside,
but I am just this clumsy handed sandpapered
I feel like I should be more.
I am not overflowing.
I am crowded with empty space, suffocating
in the little person that I am,
exhausted of carrying too little for too long.
I am not well, and am not getting better.