when i was a kid, i pretended i could
breathe underwater so that if i was
ever caught in a wave for too long
i wouldn't panic- but now my hands are
shaking and i can feel my lungs getting tight
and my ear drums are starting to pound, and
these ceilings are
crushing
me.

you're sister said i seemed
different* and he sighs when
i tell him *not different,
just sad

there is a small silence as he
loads up his truck, and when he is
not looking, i say

*but i guess, for you, that means
different

you said that i
can do better, and i
hope that by better,
you meant
you

i wish my hands didn't shake
every time you say my name,
but i am only
human

your sadness is not
beautiful, but your
scars are gorgeous

they are epics across
your skin that tell the
story of how you, just like
all great heroes,
survived

he tells me he is reaching
his breaking point
(and) he sighs,
(and) he looks away,
(and) i want to reach out to him
to touch his hand, shoulder,
knee

but i am afraid he will
shatter

(when icarus fell
did he have time
to cry out?  or did
he fall without
warning or grace?)