in 93 days I will be 25

I thought about dying today. 

playing a game with my friends

one of the characters got a hook through his chin 

I wondered what he saw

what the actor felt like filming it 

it almost overcame me

I took a deep breath and reminded myself it’s not real

I thought about dying today. 

My therapist asked me to walk her through what goes on in my head when I panic about death 

It got too much.

I can’t say it out loud 

I held my hand over my mouth and drew in ragged breaths 

and I cried, because it may not be real now but it will be one day 

I thought about dying today. 

every time the moon rises I feel heavy

and alive in a fishbowl kind of way 

everything is too loud and too close 

death is too close,

a reminder leaning over my shoulder even though I’m 24

I won’t always be 24 

in 93 days I will be 25 

this fear will still be very real 

(the reality will be too)

“I can’t talk long,” I say, “I’m feeling too much” 

sitting on the ground

patting the floor for a distraction I haven’t grown tired of yet

to quiet my mind and stall the ocean of emotion

threatening to make me vomit

I have a fear of vomiting

but it’s not as potent as my fear of death 

I blow out my candle and lay down

I think I will be distracting myself for the rest of my life 

“I can’t get up,” I say, “I’m feeling too much” 

the world has boiled down to one room 

my blanket is heavy, and my chest doesn’t hurt

my chest always hurts, but being horizontal helps

time doesn’t tick tick tick in here 

and if it does, it’s just the morning, so… I have time

the air is thick with possibilities 

I choose the one that lets me stay in this bubble a little longer 

“I have to go home,” I say, “I’m feeling too much” 

the sky feels like a snow globe

and I am being shaken without mercy

who am I without my fear holding me up by my hair

and rattling me to pieces? 

I will hang here from the glass sky until I discover

what awaits me at the end of the universe 

the world feels too big, but my hands brush the ceiling anyway 

a stray thought reminds me I will one day die

I put on a movie. I know how it ends. 

the future calls me once, twice, three times,

then finds me at home

it wears a cloak that hides its body so I can’t see what it looks like 

it holds out a hand that unravels like yarn

it steps closer to me and it smells like dirt 

home is not home any longer 

it calls me again 

I hang up the phone 

I’m feeling too much 

I thought about dying today. 

9/4/23 1:12am