the misery imposed is catastrophic.

in regard to grief.

Photo by Mike Labrum on Unsplash

i do not have the ability to grieve

in a manner that makes sense.

i’m coming undone at the prospect

of paintball pain yet to pelt me.

the panic in my bloodstream refuses

to spill out of my caterpillar capillaries.

my veins protrude as if to beg for

release from this shell of slipknot skin.

have you ever tried to cocoon

your way out of your final form?

i wonder if disintegrating into dirt

is the only part about evolution

that will set my soul free.

i wish my head had been screwed on

because at least in such an instance

its position would be calculated.

the way mine moves is nonsensical.

the numbers do not add up and

i no longer keep count of

how often my thoughts

betray logic.

all i know is that the

misery imposed is

catastrophic.

☽