I can feel myself hardening to stone, slowly slowly
The hunger in my stomach, the pain in my heart
There is a gnawing beast in my gut that has gummy teeth and jelly tears
It’s tongue lashes out and lazes about
It’s heavy head sitting squat
Giant eyes half closed
It sucks up all my energy
Sapping me of strength
And I give in to its pathetic call
Morose
Sullen
—
How do you move when the alien sorrow inside you prevents you from moving? From making a sound? From simply leaving the room?
How do you move when you’re scared of simply existing, lest you disturb the “equilibrium”, move the sand, stir the pot?
Eggshells do not even describe it. Glass shards would be more appropriate. I’m walking on glass shards, and I have to be careful. There is no way to not get hurt, to not bleed.
How do you move? Much less move in love.
I thawed for a bit, and then I turned to stone again. No, to ice.
But do you see the imagery being described above? Proud of that. “Alien sorrow”. “Gummy teeth”. “Jelly tears”.
She’s pathetic but she sure can turn a phrase sometimes.