the polished black stone in the pit

of my stomach gleams which makes

me more uncomfortable.

this dead weight feels like the world

but it seems to only be myself;

dragging my body place to place

and resting only when it deems

appropriate.

no feeling, no sadness, nothing but

an anger that swells and warms

the rock until it's a burning

ember; fueling my outbursts.

remember, remember, remember.

remember the science behind it,

remember the death of him,

remember to wrap the gifts,

remember my work shifts,

remember, remember, remember.

maybe i don't want to remember

any longer. maybe i want a moment

to do something selfish for myself

without having to feel guilty.

i want to live again, to smile for

a reason, not because that's what

people expect. i want to know

that i'm crying because i'm sad,

not because i'm too frustrated

to properly examine a situation.

i want to breathe.