My rib cage is rattling.

I hear it in my sleep. My heart is begging to burst through. I feel it stretch through the spaces between the bone and cartilage. I wish I could tell it that I’m no hero- this body is simply a vessel, nothing more. So please stop trying to save every layer of sadness that soaks through my skin. I teach it to understand. I teach it to reach without falling over. I teach it many things:

Cracking clavicle – I’m so used to my shoulders breaking from the weight of it all. I hold boulders and act like there’s no fucking gravity, but there is. I’m living proof.

Bending sternum- I’m so used to bad news crashing through me. I store it all in the spaces between my bones- the swelling is getting worse and I can’t adjust. Let it build and build and build.

Exploding diaphragm- I’m so used to the thin air not feeding me in ways I wish it could. Practice my breathing and it’s still not enough.

My heart wants out, but it’s my prisoner. I hold it for ransom and feed it what the world has to offer. The rest of these organs are still holding on, so I hope it does the same. Hear the fluttering if you listen closely. It’s been torturing me for days and days and days. My bones shake. Their sharp edges dig deeper. It’s my internal weapon and I use it on myself when I start to feel too free. Punishing sinners- the world has been doing this for ever and I’m here for the taking. Watch my bones shake, and still they never break. I ask myself what keeps me awake. Robbed of sleep. Eerie silence- but my rib cage is rattling. AMT