//TW//: violence, mild graphic body metaphores, mental distress

I want to tear myself apart. 

Unravel my threads and unhinge my jaw. 

Unhook my chest and tear out my insides.

I want to turn to sand. 

My head is filled with sand.

I reach back through my skull looking for stones but everything I touch just crumbles to dust.

An exterior force is trying to compact my being in upon itself and I don’t want to hold on. 

I want to float away untethered into the tides and resurface as driftwood in a distant land where I can breathe again, because right now my lungs are filled with ash.