Words from my Fingertips

4:16pm: S.S.
it's like a fountain of images
i tried so hard to block
and my throat, i swear, is closing up
i'm allergic to life i think
i can't think,
i think i can't breathe
my lungs have caved in and there's no where to run

where are you?
where are you when i am crying?
why aren't you here?

i can't be here,
i can't-
catch-
my breath

i feel like i am rotting fruit,
i'm falling apart, not at the seams
but at the very heart and skin and breath of me
if you touch me i might cave in
it might be as painful as it is to breathe in at the moment

and they all sit in a circle
tell me that life isn't what I say
then tell me it is but it's not the same
their words translate: doctors, medications
i just want to be left alone
i don't want to feel like rotting fruit
or broken lungs
i don't want to have to say it a hundred words and sessions

i just want to be able to catch my breath
and not have to wonder where you are when you aren't here

~the end.~