My lungs have concaved and my chest is breaking
Like my brittle bones which’ve carried this weight so long
I can feel the galaxies tucked beneath my sinking ribcage
Begin to spill out
Stars dying, planets and comets falling
Like my trembling lip
The lump in my throat
My tired swollen eyes
I am beginning to fold in on myself
This is my body
Which is not my body
I feel so trapped
In this mess of an organism
These are my hands
Which are not my hands
These aren’t my tears
But wet salty, drops of despair
I close my eyes with a heavy aching chest
And I quietly pretend
This mess is not a mess