Can't seem to stop it.
Keeps Flowing
This gushing salt water,
these quick uneven breaths I take
like I am drowning and I'm just trying to get enough oxygen,
maybe if I could stop the shaking,
maybe if I had a nice clear nose,
I could have laughed.
But I didn't.
Can't seem to stop it.
Keeps flowing.
I lay here on the concrete,
and I cannot even see straight,
let alone think straight.
Can't seem to stop it.
Keeps flowing.
I cannot conclude on whether
these are happy fantasies,
sad fragments of memories,
or a mixture of the two
that is making me feel this way.
Can't seem to stop it.
Keeps flowing.
The concrete that supports my convulsing body
is soaked.
Every time I try to stand,
I hear a loud crack,
and find myself
cuddling with the concrete once again.
Somehow it stopped.
No more gushing salt water.
I still lie here with my silent, piercing cries.
With my writhing body.
With my nose and its trickling stream.
I must not have any water left to let cascade onto the floor.
But for some reason,
I cannot disjoin myself from this cold floor.
Cannot stand up.
Once I finally build up the courage,
something shoots me down
again
and
again.