My insides are pushing out.
Pulsating and throbbing.
Aching and twisting.
They want out but I hold them down.
Everything's taking a turn.
Pushing against me.
Pushing against the insides pushing out.
Pressure builds up and nobody can hit the release.
Slowly it increases.
One atmosphere at a time.
A little bit now.
More later.
More to come tomorrow.
MORE NOW.
Why does your problem have to become mine?
Why does everything get thrown on me?
I can't take it all, I'm sorry. I'm not a sponge.
I don't absorb and then you can just wash me out.
I'm not reusable.
It's already taking a toll on me. I can feel it.
Weakness creeps up and pushes against anything in its way.
OnlysolonguntilIcrumble.
No comments:
Post a Comment