It might seem strange to you

the way I talk about myself

unusual

but have you ever felt that feeling 

of pavement grating against bare skin

leaving it red and raw, exposed

sure shouldn’t wonder why kids cry 

about a scrape, hurts like hell

shouldn’t minimize their pain

it is real

more real than any object in the room

objects are simply nouns 

only there because my senses perceive them

no guarantee

the way my hurting heart feels

the hurt is a blister

can’t always tell if it’s head or if it’s heart

but it’s always there, a sickness

breathing down my neck

a monster

not hearing voices

or crazy, don’t put me in a box

not product in a warehouse

not waiting for a label

skipping past what could have been

skipping forward to “better”

what the hell does that mean

when a feeling recedes to the sidelines

may not be better, but what is a day

without the feeling

relief equates to something

standing on a bridge

in my mind

always in my mind, always 

just in my head

it’s just a feeling

“it’s just thoughts”

what I tell my shrink 

“it’s just thoughts”

I don’t have a plan

what I’m supposed to say

I am the after-effect of a shadow

the way something so slight as this

can already have an after-effect, I’m not sure

not like lightning

body is diminished to shadow 

and further diminished still

to nothing but the quiet we hear

as the sun sinks 

into the darkest corner of the earth 

and shadow disappears

slips away 

discolours in the emergence of a new world

and that is all I am, so insignificant that 

I am not even a shadow, 

but the afterthought of one

feelings are tugging on the seams of my clothes

pulling me down

towards rock-bottom

and I find it doesn’t exist 

and I find myself wishing it did

I am desperate 

putting faith in the existence of rock-bottom

I can feel myself falling

and all I need is somewhere to land