immune

heavy-lidded

small exhales through her lips

her knees are shaking

her soles are aching

bending, breaking

until

she is no longer "immune"

a light touch to her collarbone might make her evaporate

but she's fine

she's fine

(or so she says)

she's fine

she's fine

she doesn't need rest

a day wasted will only add to her pain

(if she even admits she's in pain)

she can't afford to pause for a moment and look within herself

she can't close her eyes

that'd be time thrown away

her fumbling feet carry her shivering shoulders

her shivering shoulders carry her heavy head

her heavy head carries her thundering thoughts

her thundering thoughts carry nothing

but the ominous fear of disappointment hanging over her tired body

her chest is hollow

there is nothing filling her up except numbers and dates

she knows about nutrition

she knows about metabolism

but she acts like looking at word documents will nourish her

can she extract water from these sheets of paper

to parch her exhausted mind?

can she swallow all these pen caps like they're pills

and somehow feel like she can last another day?

she's trying to pull stars out of her bloodstream

for her to hang on her walls

she's seeking warmth

she's looking for comfort

she's only human

she clutches the fleece

and closes her heavy-lidded eyes

her throat is closing up,

overwhelmed with suppressed pleas

she can barely breathe

small exhales through her lips

her knees are shaking

her soles are aching

bending, breaking

she's not immune.