I want to cry.
I want to feel the tears run down my cheeks like small rivers.
i want to see through the gaps of my lashes, the small droplet tumble to the ground,
its body engulfed by anything it touches.
I want to feel the walls of my nasal swell with emotions,
translated into snot, because for whatever reason,
crying must not be clean.
I want to be messy, to lay amongst my mess as i cry,
to feel the world’s ploy against me.
i want to feel like i’ll never breathe easy again,
as my palms shake like thin branches,
my breath as shaky as cold wind.
i want to feel the pain in my chest and then suddenly
nothing as it dissipates with each breath,
until i grab more anguish from my breast
and begin the seance again.