who are you,
you to me. I feel dispensable, a soap container
a plague, or mono. maybe. Never been kissed.
a tumultuous stirring, a soap box, anti-abortion signs in the middle of a college campus. I stop frat-
Internalizing every tidbit, every
upheaval, every breath
inhale, every breath restrains. thought leaves rustle. thoughts leave.
an anecdote, a pun, a pen, empty on its last limb
I feel as alone as a speck of sand in a toddlers shoe as she hurdles a tantrum. zen
I breath. Subdued. one. two. three.
every follicle, pore, every poor overworked thought tightening around my throat like a nuis-
I let go. one. two. three.
and I grow.