It's Not Heartache

It is not heart ache because it is not my heart. The air in my lungs is thinner, upper arms tingle and I am sinking. I wiggle my toes to see if they are in pain. They are not but the ground beneath them is less real. The eyes are deceptive, the image of the outside world altered, more detached than usual. Reality bends with the air in my body. Then my mother butts into my thoughts when, seeing me hanging out the window, she says; 'you look like a suicide case.'

Wednesday July 8th 2009