RainbowJumper

I have never broken a bone But I felt my insides Churn and Billow and Crack Beneath my skin I have Heaved and Crumbled and Withered But I have never broken a bone I am not  broken

Stale soda on the back of my tongue Stale, with every sip I take It still fizzes It still has life But the aftertaste Always gets me

Stalking silence creeps behind her As she tiptoes to her room She doesn't like to shut off the lights But it's something she'll always do Calling crawling in her bed She dials the phone  to wish A goodnight to mother Without a goodnight's kiss. Empty eyes are wide awake Some four hours pass or more Then she hears the dreaded footsteps Come creeping to her door Please pretend you're still asleep If you're dead he'll go away He's like a stalking predator Chasing after sickly prey Never naïve, it fails to work He always comes back to mess His advances are too frequent With an alcoholic's breath But baby, where's mother

One day, you will open the cupboard to find a wine glass or some Tupperware and the world will, without warning or alarm, roll off the edge of the shelf and coming crashing down. The oceans will splash onto the linoleum, onto the rug. All the dust in all the deserts will rain down onto the couch and coffee table, the hills will crumble, the mountains will break, all the windows in all the cities will shatter and fall, a thousand dangerous miles of glass glittering on your kitchen floor. Everything will hush. Exhale the breath you are holding, and go look for a dust pan, for a broom.

I. I took a walk once, and Depression walked alongside me. "I want to be alone," I told him. "I know," he replied, "Why do you think I'm here?" II. "I have a plan," Depression said to me. "Not today," I said. "I'm tired." He frowned and asked, "How did you know my plan?" III. I gave the weekend over to Depression but he took three days instead of two. "Think of it as an investment," he said. "And maybe I'll let you have a Friday night without regrets." IV. Fallen to the floor I look up and see he's smiling at me. "You know what they say about old dogs." He's doing this on purpose, I know he is- and it's working. "They can't l