Choking on an emotional breakdown
This must be what it feels like to have catastrophic hurricanes
pounding towards your house.
Not having a board to spare your bay windows
Having life splitter into cells of depresson
Tumbling on your knees towards hope
And reaching out for a breathe of air
That does not feel like it is laced with sulfur
Salt dashed on wounds are hard to lick
Hard to stand when your toes have been bent back
By destruction of a different kind.
A mid-evil type of punishment…