read before burning

even now I struggle to accept that my emotions occupy space

and that their need to occupy space grows exponentially when shrunk confined

it’s like there’s this box made to hold them

and as the box gets smaller

they grow desperately, quickly

{{{there’s a delicate and elaborate ratio that must be maintained

shouldn’t have fucked with it}}}

what expands when it’s crushed? (I don’t know, ask a chemist.)

I have really ugly scars on my knees. I wonder if they’ll last forever- reminding me of when I “fell down.”

But maybe (shit this is gonna be cliché as fuck) they’re also reminders that I got up and my knees healed.