Heavy

There are no colors within me
but something blooms.
It has taken root in my gut
and matured in my chest.

Winding it’s way into my limbs,
wrapped around my muscles,
sowing fatigue into the cells.

Slowly –
until
my
whole
anatomy

is heavy.

Crawling up my ribcage
despair sprouts in my lungs,
grows up my throat,
and chokes on the oxygen.

Loneliness has flourished.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.