morning air

overgrown

inside

These nights are filled with my malignant thoughts which travel through me and cripple my morality. They leave me itching at my skin, feeling trapped behind this complexion. This darkness drapes me and I feel each question stir in the pit of my stomach. Open eyes allow no vision and my body, foreign to me, heaves. I'm fighting not to be swallowed and trying to swallow the knot at the nape of my neck. I tear at what encases my being; a lust to be free. I need spontaneity, meaning and air all at once. My breath is laced in wonder. This is what it is to be afraid.