If I Have to Paint your Picture

I would include your long fingers
untrimmed nails curled
yellowed hard the black line
of forever dirt clawing into
my chest always left to right
squeezing my heart into black
fist grasping lungs until air rushes out
and I’m left hollowed a cave
full of empty a dark hole only
suspected by astronomers
psychiatric seeking to name and plot
prescribe until I too whisper
your name between us: bipolar
when you appear a dirty wind

whistles sighs builds to a roar
slowly desiccating tissue
eroding vessels seeping
into skin like a bruise until
the body becomes brain
convulsed into hopelessness

inhaling exhaling exhausting
feet dragging shoulders sagging
thoughts flat deserts sand swirling
to blot out oases palms
bending over sans water
fronds kissing earth
in mockery the blue pool
shrinking to a dot in
your vision leaving everything
eviscerated raw inside and out.

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