do they?

mourning for a life

you’ve only touched

in dreams;

weeping
for a heart
that flutters
at the things we
all
take
for granted;
no one suspects

no one knows

no one
sees you choking
gasping
being throttled
by delusionary

hands
tightening their
grip
as you refuse
to poison your
soul

with the medicine

and therapy

and words of

wisdom

they offer

you.

 

it’s not

too much to

ask,

is it?

i mean,

no one wants to
bury
their future
before they’ve

even lived

it,

do they?