drunk on anxiety and fear

The weight of the world closes in. Heavy against the humidity of the day. Chest pounds like an amphetamine rush. Baring down against the thud of a cracking skull. Inhale deeply to fight the anxious tremble and talk in circles about nothing and love. Hide the voices quiver beneath the warm acidic goodness of citrus and rum. Try to breath but it catches. Somewhere between the throat and the tears. Words fail when there is nothing but distance and time. Lean back against the chimney of the searing roof and look out over the cedar and pines. Smash your fists into the worn red bricks until the blood finds the surface and the tension is released.

Here I am nothing. No ones savior. No one's friend. Not a sister or a lover or a daughter. I am me. Drunk on anxiety and fear.