but i don't want a bandage.

i can feel my heart beating in my chest
and taking up all the space beneath my ribs.
it pounds and hits and throbs
and i'm almost sure you can hear it
over the sound of the telephone ringing.
i used to feel this way
when i was scared and nervous,
before i made an important move,
or when a boy would talk to me and smile.
it was reserved for scary moments,
wrong moves, and accidents,
so why does my heart beat fast now?

it must be that light i feel inside,
the one that never quite fits inside my skin,
and she's pounding to be let go.
she says "today it's not right,
and maybe a weekend cut the rope and
loosed the boat and
wrecked the shore."
and blood pools behind my eyes, i feel it,
but as i sit and let the rolling fill me again,
i feel it die.

it's a little sickly-sweet to feel betrayed and bruised,
but i'll hum and close my eyes
until my arms tingle then go numb,
and i won't need a bottle or a glass,
and my legs will fall away, my chest will
slice into pieces and tumble,
cartoonish almost, in this void i found.

because when we're falling and fading and crying,
when we can't press the x-button, we can't see
through our tears,
there's no save points in life, and
my heart will beat fast with the recognition of failure,
but it will slow
and it will stop.