Her Chicken Scratch / Poetry

No. Stop.

I’m crying. For no apparent reason. Tears are rolling down my cheeks. Cascading down my neck, wetting the brim of my collar. It’s now damp. With tears. Tears. Tears. Tears. I repeat saying it. Hold your head back. That will stop it. Think of something… happy. That’s it. You’re doing it. Think of something happy. Think of giggling babies, smiling dogs and smoothies. Think about your-. No. Stop. Don’t think about it. You’re doing it. Stop. Think about – one thought leads to another that comes back to that one. My hands are shaking. Do you think people will notice? They must. I’m wearing a shirt with a wet collar, damp with tears. No. Stop. Let’s change this. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. I repeat saying it. Think of daisies, willow trees and aged cheese. Yum. Food. Let’s wipe our tears. My collar. It’s damp. It’s soaked in something of my memories I rather not think of. No. Stop. You’re thinking about it. It’s erupting out of my head. No. Stop. Keep walking. Keep walking. Keep walking. I repeat saying it. Let’s go. Where? There? No. Stop. Think of something happy. Think of air that is so cold it burns to breath, a crackling flame that dances above a candle and a snowman that never melts. You’re doing it. Good job Amber. Keep going. Keep going. Keep going. I repeat saying it. Were here. Thank the heavens.

Written by Alecia Writes

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