Clutching

I think I feel too much.

Sometimes I claw for breath,
my chest in fingers
clutched so tight.

Stomach churns,
flips,
swirls
in tiny rippled waves of questions
like who am I
and what am I
and why I grip your memory
with my own clutching fingers,
raw and open and alive
with remembering.

Advertisements

6 thoughts on “Clutching

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s