I am going to try and talk to you, and tell you how much I’m actually failing

I’m flailing like a crazy bird trying to swim,

Wings clipped and mangled,

Warped, strangled

I am trying to find my own new way of breathing in the toxic plume of your overwhelming body aches,

Dark Raven climbs on top of me

Once closing my pipes,

Now opening, a new placement for a whore, I am.

Opening, it’s a tearing

I open my door, it’s loosening but still ajar and cut off from oxygen

Peeling back skin

And cutting like a giant, slamming sword held up just barely above the shoulders with a child in an adult frame

I have tons of slams to my knees

So I fall to them

And I love you from a drowning, excruciating distance, that truly makes me want to squish myself like a snail or worm into a dream box to send to you—-

All my writings will be threatened to be deleted,

Like the failure I surely am.