60 D squareD

Urge to breathe,

Nothing to escape;

Lungs too plastic.

Higher pitched screams

As fingers crumble in fists

Lips chapped; sticky even.

"Whose stronger than this bitch"

My nail picks the cloth-y chair,

Of my car seat.

The need to drive.

Glasses hanging -

Of the slope of my skin,

Snot begging

To drip;

Like those tears pouring.

"Why not you just come in and talk?"

"Because I'm too scared of her."

Stand up for yourself.