Can't Breathe

Hands...feels like so many hands. Inside my rib cage. Gripping. Squeezing. Pulling. Can't breathe. Vomit. Feels like I'm going to vomit. Burning inside my stomach. But nothing ever comes up. Hands around my throat. Can't breathe. Every attempted deep breath brings on the feeling of vomit. If I close my eyes it gets worse because every image I'm trying to forget flashes in front of me. And I can feel you. I'm trying to forget and I can feel you. Holding on to me. But not for the reason I hope. It's only because you want your toy. While I try to forget how much emotion I have invested in this you hold on to your toy. All the while I know I'm disposable. That you'll be done with me someday and never look back. And I'll still be trying to catch my breath.

A Good Lie

To the world she appears to have it all together. She seems independent and strong. She walks with an air of confidence that makes her almost unapproachable. Yet, if you get close enough you'll find that she reeks of bourbon and tastes like pain. The tiny pieces of her shattered heart held in her hands. Unaware of just how fragile she is, but unable to fix it. Frozen and paralyzed in her heartache. So she takes another drink to numb the pain and move forward one more day living the lie that she's okay.