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…


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