Explosions burst through my chest
like cannonballs kick up dirt on the battlefield.
This is my constant now; I’ve long since given up
on trying to love somebody.
The electricity running up and down
my arms is oddly comforting—
a reminder that I’m alive and
a conductor of something.
Breaths used to come easily, until
they didn’t. I have to remind myself
to expel the air out of my lungs
otherwise I’ll continue to inflate.
But rather than float away,
I’ll just explode. Welcome
to another day on earth.
