Sometimes it feels as if the sky is
falling down on top of me
my body—an old, discarded newspaper is
tossed and torn and forgotten.

the wind laps at the edges of my heart like flames,
licking the edges of a building on fire.
‘fire! fire! fire!’
it burns. god does it burn.

and the gaping wound painted on my heart
that loves your crinkled smile is getting ripped apart
until the edges curl and burn and turn into ashes
stuck inside my ribcage.

their eyes look at me while I sleep, questioning, waiting, hungry.
always so hungry,
feeding on my sweat and my two am breakdowns.

do they feed on you? Are they hungry for your sweat?
my fingernails claw at empty sockets
can’t you see me? ‘why can’t you see me?’
always so hungry.