Slowly Counting Down from Ten While Taking Deep Breaths

sister                                   sawing myself in half           on a sticky barstool

i’ve missed                         spent days                              a twenty percent tip

you                                      leaving                                   counting down

i relinquish                        my body                                 waiting for answers or

your yellowed skin           where not even i                    swollen from standing so long

or death                              could find it                           a full disclosure

sleepless                              i have                                      restless legs

terrified                               nights lately                           on melatonin

i’m next                               looking for                             a new heart

in line                                  my body                                 with measured beats

writing bullshit                  because                                   panic attacks

emotions                             thoughts                                 are as divisive

lamenting                           would be useless                    as forced similes

about PTSD                        without                                 the post

about dead                           hands                                   apocalyptic

ends                                      and lips                                drought

to collapse                            i would not enfold             the freshly mopped floor

my my my                            hips                                      buckled at times

i can’t control                       touch                                   like broken ribs

i can’t risk                            whether                                your face was

the same but quiet              fever or chill                        after crashing

sobered up                           or if                                       high as fuck crashing still

russian roulette red             a mouth                               unmuffled silence

nail polished toes                could stop me from            hard footfalls

french manicured               unnecessary words             counting down

fingers flinch                        forming                                a deep breath