The problematic situation we find ourselves in:

never quite discussed

with

words (in

structured sen-

tences.)

Tense:

shoulders

knees

and toes and back and

forth.

Coffee, steam licks at my lips

condensation forming

around the rim

I grasp at

fickle porcelain

and hold on for dear life.

(It will all be over soon,

it will all be over soon, itwillallbeoversoon)

My words run together

like dripping

ink from tear stained letters.

There is no word for the building crescendo of

desperation I feel inside me,

trapped inside my ribcage

like

dying

birds.