Flesh (Stress).

Claws dig in
rip flesh.
I forget
what peace of mind
sounds like.
This stress
pulls apart
my joints
snaps
my bones
and leaves me
a heaping
mangled
mess.

- - -

I moved again. This was the worst one yet. I have accumulated too many things. It is time to lighten my load.

Also blogverse: I think it's time that you knew something about me: Boys are dumb, girls are pretty. I am feeling as queer as they come.

Again.

My insides collapse
at the thought of you--
like the hundredth attempt
at the beginnings of a novel--
I let them crumple
as if it was just paper
in my hand.

If this is what
you do to me now,
then I'm afraid
to take even
one more step
forwards.

Because I don't know
if I can take

falling apart--
falling so hard

again.

- - -

Oh hai. This one's about a girl.