To Be Understood

Tired.

My lips dry and cracked

As my breath runs cold

And my throat scratchy.

My eyes heavy

As the tears run dry

And my wails quiet.

My body is sore

As I’ve scaled up my spine

And broken into the attic of my body.

I’ve placed multiple climbing cams

In the crevices of my mind

As I search for the cave you need to explore.

It is dark and damp here, adorned by cobwebs

And skeletons

Of my previous attempts.

I’ve forgotten the layout of the attic

But navigating it comes second-nature

Only to myself.

The map I offer you is no use

Covered in smudges and splotches and spills

So I must conjure up a new one.

And here I am

Venturing this haunted attic once more

Hands sweaty and trembling.

I gaze out from my eyes

To you holding out an open hand

But I turn back knowing it’s of no use.

My aching muscles rush to climb faster

Praying to find the lobe that controls my movements

Hoping to take your hand.

The cerebrospinal fluid is thick

And I am running out of air pockets

To save us.

I fear I will soon share the fate of my peers

And I’ll forget this attic and its mysteries once more

As I grow quickly more and more

Tired.