bog girl

i think i’ve been mourning. puddles in mugs watch me forget about them, cold. passing smiles exist in potentiality. eyes digging into the ground for a secret answer. a nose ring fighting tears. i try.

i think i’m being haunted. whispers of what could have been swirl around my ears, sneak into my dreams, and trickle down my spine when i’m awake. the hair on my neck is always standing. i want to lay.

i think something is wrong with me. tapping fingers, rhythmic pounding. i look at strangers and wish i was in their body. my insides contort themselves. i am helpless.

i think i’m too tired. darkness in my vision, in my veins, in my bones. i exist in the hide in unconsciousness. i can stay here.