The teeth of small sharks are

much more sharp.

I hear the fluid rise in her throat

and I swim in the other direction.

Pray for the safe haven of familiar arid desert in the Sudden downpour

Only child, Only season

Blood coursing through and hammering louder and Swelling higher and

Smothering out the light.

Brakes squeal, My heart

is liquid thunder

Harder pumps and round lumps

of indiscretion. Black Coal eyes.

The chest pains of panic

and the obscure coughing fits

and the repeated indigestion of indecision

and the reminders of old sickness

and the fear of perdition

flushed fast with the filth of addiction.

False perception of alone

You say I am learning to grow

Up.

Look up, you say

But I know the full story

and this is what happens

when the crumbs make the transition

from food to

Dirt.

The ground is so much more solid

beneath my feet

so pregnant with growing pains

and the sky is only touchable

when you aren't afraid to fly.