I Don't Remember How To Send You Something

"i think i was working on this for like a minute but it was everything: This is what separation feels like. you loose grip on your jaw as if you're gonna engulf your tongue and this is what you feel when you see those roaming all choked up. the words melt off the page, or escape fingertips to keyboard. piano keys composing this symphony I hear in the background a slow rumble of cars and my stomach bulges whilst my arms feel weak though intent. intent on writing typing moving seeing spying needing sleeping being. And I realize then, what would happen if I just melt into it, and feel the metallic taste on teeth and keep in control my lungs. and grab these words off paper (screen) to keep them escaping. The visual is this, an entire skeleton curled around itself where you feel chin to heart to lungs to tailbone to toes to knuckles to throat to forehead. And there is a pattern in these letters, in these blurred eyes and the feeling behind head of being supported though lost in the turning of the world. I would never leave this"