i cannot write, typed words stuck inside, little black & white letters in a clump, like dust scraped off the kitchen floor
they're stuck inside, like refrigerator magnets still in the crinkly, plastic packaging.
i cannot write
because i won't let myself,
because it hurts to look at myself,
because the tears won't come
i won't let them.
i am holding up a dam inside me
a long-lost letter to self-sabotage: an old, familiar habit of pushing it all down, holding it all in
a master of suffocation, hands around my own heart, my own throat
so that the emotion doesn't gush out, like a thrashing ocean
a wild, Neptunian sea that could swallow me whole, eat me alive with a smack of its salty, wave-like lips
it could change me forever
and i am scared
what i need to feel.
i am scared to feel the truth.
is no more than
blocking the flow in the ruby rivers of my own heart.
to get unblocked,
into all the parts that don't want to be seen,
and i cry
i let the tears rain the fuck down
and taste the
salty rain on my
i surrender to the throbbing pulls of my own heart.
i stop looking away.