Scratching doesn’t help the itch
No breath is deep enough
Nothing satisfies what my body wants
I feel everything creating a kind of numbness
Distractions can’t even hold my focus
I’m drifting without moving
Seeing with burning dry heavy eyes
Everything hurts a little more every day
Every day I move farther away from everyone
Words don’t come out right like before
Maybe they never came out right
Sometimes I wish I couldn’t speak at all
Would my silence make the world better
I doubt anyone would notice my absence
From the poetry collection Cats, Coffee, Catharsis.
James Pack 