Old habits hang like nooses
brushing against my throat
against my thoughts
tightening across everything that I’ve become.

I’m sorry that we fight like this
but fighting is what
everything has taught me
to do.

Sometimes I want to break down like an old car
because of everything that has built up
but Father would be disappointed.

Sometimes I feel that everything
I work so hard for
is for nothing
even though I still cling to it
like a rabid junkyard dog
mauling an old bone
growling at the sun.

Let’s be honest
being human is terrifying
but you can’t show them
that you’re weak or afraid
not anybody
not for one second.

But I can talk to you, right?
I would like it if I could talk to you
about me
about you
about nothing
about everything…

it helps to keep the sinewy rats away
from my soul.