you know that uneasy feeling you get in your stomach? the one that usually settles between the crippling depression and self loathing in your mind while it presses on your tear ducts. it coils around your throat, or leaves a lump in it; swallowing back the tears is a challenge, but you do it anyway.
the worse thing, however, is that it usually springs from nothing. a minute from crying of laughter could spiral you into a dark tunnel of why? im sorry tumbles from your mouth like pleas of help, like the rumble of your stomach after you’ve denied it for days as a product. would you call it an emotion?
no, i lied. the worse part is seeing the dark circled under your eyes and possessing migraines from lack of sleep. the worse part is hearing your loves ask if you’re alright because you’re never quiet. but thinking over it, are they silently saying you talk too much? that you should be quiet more? because it seems so after you claim you’re fine and they drop it without a second thought.
they know, do they care? probably not-
please embrace me when i get quiet. there are rocks blocking the words from spilling out of my mouth and redirecting them to my mind. ignore the shaking of my shoulders and tell me it will blow over.