Scrambling for breath

Anxiety over moving

Marsh in my lungs and fog down below 

the bellows squeeze out a routine 

wake, brush, dress, go

Boxes and clutter from a truck dumped out

arrange and rearrange deranged and shout

dont make me do this you can't make me change course.

Kudzu down my neck the root knotted deep in my brain 

grows lush down my back and around every joint.

My chest is the tree that it chooses to wrap its tendrils tight.

Suck it in and push it out 

The marsh is thick and gurgles. Breathe. Scramble. Panic.

Reviews

[pumpkin head]

interedting read, but enjoyed it