tweak23

poesy

my fingernails are worn down from grasping at opportunity.
when one comes my way, i cannot let it slip past.
i pepper my days and nights with activity and i stave off
sleep
to achieve, to experience.
my fingers are bloody from tearing at concrete,
blocking every exit and entrance, i hurt myself to tear
them down.
i am claustrophobic when i don't have outs and openings,
blood pounds in my ears and my chest constricts
my air is gone my air is gone god help me i can't breathe...
unlike some people, i do not enjoy the gentle breeze on my
face
that can only come from a chance that is flying by.