They Say
They say it is all in my head
In my head the way pulmonary edema is
in your lungs
They say they don’t understand why someone would want to
starve or
gorge or
burn or
hurt or
cut or
die
It is not for them to understand and
I hope they never do
Pills skip meals tissue paper spots on the floor steady dripping beating broken mirror
Mirrors don’t lie
They’re hard on the eyes
It is not for them to understand and
I hope they never do
I hope they never feel the fluid that fills lungs
I hope they never feel the fluidness of existence
Tears blood razor sharp long showers pinpricks of cold
if only because hot water cannot last forever
and they say to stand in the rain to see the sun
How do I say I do see the sun? I see it and I can’t
feel it and I watch them stand in it and throw these words at me
but not a rope to grab onto
Ropes hangman knot blisters holding on too tight burning fire water fluid surrounded drowning
Why am I drowning while they are breathing around me?
What they say? Sound won’t travel through this water very well
and I am losing my consciousness.
They say they still don’t understand
as I am gasping for air.
I hope they never do
I know they can breathe in water misty air rain wintery sadness
They don’t understand
They know they don’t
But only I know they never will