break

at first, it’s slow
a gradual erosion of the self
piece by piece
you’re carved away
until all that’s left
is fragile glass

you’re suffocating
vines strangling the life out of you
tendrils choking your soul
the cracks invade
seeping into your very being
and you shatter.

aura

her head pounds
like torrential rain
hammering on corrugated steel

her swollen eyes stream,
a mountain spring
etching crevices in her face

pins and needles in her arms,
in her legs, in her mind
the light blinds her
so she turns it off.