Stress

It's kind of like burning,
An alcoholic drowning.
My skin melting in liquor,
As my blood grows thicker.

It's a bird under my ribs,
And against them, it hits.
Dreaming, wishing to fly away,
But knowing it is cursed to stay.

It's a lurching in my heart,
As it tears itself apart.
Lungs gasping for air,
That isn't even there.

Clutching, grasping, gasping,
Into absolutely nothing.
Do I swim? Do I fly?
Do I just-
Wave goodbye?

Hey, can you hear my screams,
In life, or in dreams?
Because neither gives me peace,
Neither grants me release.

And now something is breaking,
Suffocating, sinking.
Is it perhaps my brain,
Under all of this strain?

My hands are shaking,
My breath is failing.
Failing.
Failing.

I think the stress,
Has made me a mess.
I am failing.
Failing.
Failing.