Wishing Well
Wishing wells don’t provide.
They just flush out anything.
Buckets of algae that we call good luck.
I’ve never enjoyed a thing a day in my life.
Cracked ribs that might as well be mine.
I have anxiety that’s so severe, it’s like sunken ships.
Moaning ships, getting shipwrecked.
Wishing wells don’t provide.
Wishes are burdens as much as my nervous system.
I want to tear my nerves out.
Feels like…
Butterflies that can’t land right.
I enjoy this life like algae.
It’s colorful but still slimy.
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