Not Screaming (math class)

The air here is swallowing me

Thick as cement- my lungs cannot shape to breathe it in

The room is a cardboard stage

The light watery, flickering, flat as paper

Everything here reeks of defeat, like carrion on a battlefield.

Funny, because I don't remember the battle.

Emptiness of chalkdust and blank paper

Taste the scream on the tip of my tongue, green apple

Savouring it, bittersweet acid in my mouth

If I were to let it out, the air would steal it from me.

Fluorescent lights buzz like a fly with its legs torn off

Blood drumming in my ears, my head is a black hole

I am not here, I think.

I am drowning really I am drowning.

outlook lookout

Have you ever

been a stranger in your own body

like your mind

wandered out the door

down the street in the rain

then came stamping back home

the rain is in your hair and in your jacket

drenched, soaking the floor

washed away

(hang up coat and keys, wipe rain from your glasses, kick off your boots)

And since you've been outside

everything has changed.