perhaps.

through the livingroom i trip
stumbling
feeling like my feet are becoming disinttached*

used to try
not to step on the pieces of my broken life
but now i don’t bother;
kinda sound sweet
crunch crunch beneath my feet

before i used to have big dreams
to save the world
now my biggest goal
is making it through the day.

my bodies not behaving
but neither is my mind —
inside my soul is screaming
it wants to fly
wants to get away from the place where i
can’t take
all my good advice.

how could i expect to save the world
when i can’t even save myself?

perhaps
not collapse into pity this time
feeling a fresh perspective

i always felt like rushing too much,
back then,
back when denial was a safety blanket
instead of an expired pill
terrified of time off
running pushing forward overpressing feeling like…
chased by the invisible ghost
of my future self

panic in my throat
or maybe it’s just me
perhaps
i was speeding through life because i knew this was coming; tried to get it all done before the crash,
i sware.

hardest to admit even though i felt invincible
i wasn’t
mind, why did you lie?
me, why did i trust you.

if anything i’ve learned my limitations —
that the voice in my head is right, sometimes,
but only the one that whispers
when it talks things that make my stomach twist
when it tells me hushed
this is too much

& maybe that’s the one i should be listening to
instead of the one that screams failure
the one that says it’s all my fault; i fucked it up;

blame my broken head
that’s broken my legs.

*disinttached to me means disingenuous/disassociated/unattached