rereading: A Poem

 rereading what I write
 is like reading the words of a stranger
  
 I don’t know her
 I am her
 I am who am
  
 the god of my brain
 with no self-control
 what 
 so 
 ever
  
 and it makes the acids in my stomach sour
 the back of my mouth closes
 it’s hard to swallow
  
 labored breathing
 labor pains
 as I realize who I am
 my chest swells
 too tight
 I am drowning
 in blankets
 I can’t swallow
  
  
 breathe in
 not enough comes out
 acid burns
 turning
 like tiny tidal waves
 rolling
 over dead
  
 how could I have ever felt this way?
 I don’t understand people
 who feel the need to find themselves
  
 who am I?
 I’ve always known
 never looked 
 I don’t know
  
 how did I ever feel
 the way I felt yesterday?
 how did I ever feel
 the way I felt tomorrow?
  
 could I ever have been
 so sad
 really 
 when I feel so happy now?
  
 but that happiness
 is really relief
  
 I better believe it now
   
Photo by Anna Shvets on Pexels.com

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