When I get hit by a thought of ✺, I get incredibly nauseous. For as long as ✺, the feeling lasts. No matter how busy I am. I want to puke everything I ever ate, everything I ever drank, everything I ever felt or smelled or heard or seen. I want to shovel out everything I've absorbed from other people and everything I've developed myself to be. I want to gut myself of every impurity ever touched or conceived and

I want to say ✽

but no matter what, my words will appear clear as glass, and the option to hold and feel their weight is unavailable. My words can only ever feel the impact upon the ground when swept away, so all I can do is box them in cotton for storage. Nothing is changed either way.

Six months stretching into forever. Sad part is, I deserve this. As long as I'm alive though, I believe I should live; but how can I live full when I am periodically shot ✺ around blind corners?

I can't ✽✺.
I can probably ✽myself.
It should be easy but I make it hard.

✽