I Shutter

It's a poem I don't remember writing.

I feel mighty awful
And the awful within me
Is mighty.
My whole body is about to fall apart
And frequently I shudder
And feel convulsive sobs grow silent,
But more insistent.
I am a wet, weather-beaten rag
With black smudges under my eyes
And a head that has been smashed
And tiredness which wreaks through me
Like a car crash, like body organs smeared,
Like an arm thrusting through my stomach
And I’m careening, holding fast
To the rib cage which would break
Open, and all the organs come flying out
In one mass array
In one fatal attack
On the open
Air. And I can’t breathe
And it all tastes like sick
And cherries
And the frown on my face grows deeper,
Shading history in the present,
And so my arms flap like failed fledgling wings
And I want to fall back on myself,
To crack.
I just need to loosen up,
And again I shudder.


Like all that I needed now
Was a little kick in the throat
From your words, from your exchange,
It was all I needed now.
To send me over the edge,
Holding my head,
And weeping.