Escalation

it sinks in like liquid;
my thin paper towel mind is
thirsty.

the mouth becomes thick and stale;
the blood is weak and the limbs
suddenly too thick.
sick teeth have dug into my
mind,
ripped it open like a caved in sewer
torn through my legs
and the pills still haven't arrived.

and here my mouth is
pouring like a drain,
my eyes drawn in like fists.

it's only the end of the day,
and already the worst
moment
is quivering in my hands,
suddenly too child-like.

there is a feeling like floating
gripping to my lead balloon for
life, for whatever
sanity I've been faking so well.

Granted,
I've done a grand show
keeping one toe on the dusty clasp,
but someone opened pandora's box today,
and my friend with the cane only ever existed in imagination.

so the clasp around my mind is opened
the grins and the screams are leaking out,
my mother's voice was like acid that day,
with every word she bit off to me.

there's a pounding sound like a bass stereo,
the deep pulse matches my difficult breath.
I'm weighted, weighted, I'm flying away
on the lead balloon.

the man with the string inked forever around his arm
will try and comfort me in the dark,
but draws back when he sees I'm frantic,
I've been writing for him--like him--for months
doesn't he see
his concern is making it worse?

the lead balloon pops
my stomach lands first,
rattling my bones,
and I'm left numb,
a taste like copper in my mouth.

Wondering, wondering, wondering,
why I must go through all of these things twice.

to think it all started;
with a spilled cup of
milk.