days are different now
one big waiting room
at your therapists office
how are you?
the turbulence of the tide is unending
but so is the placid sheen of my indifference
panic and surrender
are cousins
they hang me by the neck at their pleasure
i don’t know which one wants me to survive
so i sway.
all i’ve talked about for the last 48 days is wanting to be held
make the spinning stop. just for a second.
cut me down
cool the burn from rope
take the stale breath out of my mouth from choking
and get on their knees with me.
my feet can’t take it
the sand. still. the waves. relentless.
i crash on the shore. solidly.
the relief of earth. stopping.
breaking for good and ever. or at least for now.