i count my breaths / one / two / three / then skip / four / five / six / like numbers have secrets they don’t tell me / like i don’t know how to hold myself evenly /

i fold my hands / left over right / or is it right over left / and the symmetry feels wrong /

i wonder if the world notices / the way i stumble over patterns / the way i fall into odd spaces / while everyone else stands in lines /

while dragging myself through the day / i see a creature mourning / my hands shake as if holding the weight of a thousand shattered aspirations /

i whisper “why me” to the void / the void ignores me / rude /

life is essentially a continuous obstacle course of emotional obliteration /

i cannot even tie my shoes without feeling the brutal off-center gravity of my being /

left loop / right loop / everything hurts /

on weekends / sometimes thursdays / i speak in full sentences / clean / measured / crisp /

my mind feels like a room with one lamp burned out / half-lit / half-guessing /

i crawl around blindly / hands scraping against the floor / hatred burying myself in my own grave / thick as tar in my chest / it drips down my ribs, slow and suffocating / coating every thought until everything tastes like bitterness /

sometimes i grab fistfuls of my hair just to anchor myself / but the grip turns desperate / tight / punishing / like i’m trying to pull the weakness out by the roots / tugging until my scalp screams / before i do /

and somewhere deep in my skull / i can feel them growing / those tiny, invisible viruses of the mind / thoughts that replicate in the dark / burrow into soft places / chew through memories / until my brain feels infected / with things i never asked to feel /

i’ve always lived in the leftover spaces / the odds no one bets on / left over / right over / missing pieces / evens, odds / and all the cracks in between /

if life is suffering / then i am the entire syllabus /

if imbalance is a tragedy / i am the director, the actor, the audience…