jars

i whisper my thoughts
soft, under my breath
let them swirl briefly
before catching them
in a small glass jar
with holes punched in
the lid to let them
breathe as i slowly
suffocate from all of
the things i am lacking

rows of jars filled to
overflowing with all of
the things no one else
cares to be burdened with
ticks burrowed deeply
numbing the entrance wound
and gluttonously drinking
weakened from blood loss
weighed down by parasites
wheezing into any open
container before the spots
swallowing my vision blot
out the sun entirely

whispering feverish odes
unwanted and unacknowledged
i have become a tumor
a malignancy of murmurs
roaming nude through a
field of razor wire delusion
leaving a trail of my
greatest failures to
fertilize abandoned crops
the desolation of empty silos
staring silently over
plots of salted earth with
half buried dream vessels

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