I look up
The LIGHT:
The ceiling is coming to crush me
It melts slowly in its bulging way
Bearing down with the weight of its
Brightness and attracted to the gravity of my fear/
Anticipation
Of falling back into somewhere I need to go
Insanity to feel sane again
Because there will be rubber hands on my skin soon
Now
Alone before dinner
Upstairs in the rain
Athena splits my head open and does not apologize
CZYTASZ
In Which
PoezjaA collection of poems about my experiences battling bipolar disorder, OCD, and addiction.
