holding on.

I feel as though
on a knife edge

that scathing blade
lying, passive

waiting for
that one raging
silent night

when thoughts
boil over into despair
and the phone is too

far to

reach



I'm holding my breath
and my lungs
are slowly aching
with building pressure
can't be sated

until the pain has
carved its way through my skin

I need to release these words
but
refresh the page
refresh the page
waiting lists aren't
for the impatient

I can't hold on much longer
I'm drowning in guilt

stop with the pity party,
she says
but is it still a party
if its all in my head?