whether

they build up

in my chest, somehow both buried in and bearing down on my lungs

in my mind, neither in nor on but a complete melding into its entire form

they appear nonchalantly and spread

inconspicuous and harmless on their own

but frightening, panic-inducing

each time I happen to glance inward

once in awhile

on a whim

every seventeen and a quarter minutes

+++

I have a runny nose

because I'd be scared too

because I remember the hopeless sincerity of his sobbing

because these things never happen when I am there, when I can be in control of something

because everything is a precursor to a day when I will have to say goodbye

and saying goodbye is painful and frightening

especially

when you're never quite sure if the love you gave

was enough to make up for all the other times

in time

+++

I talk loudly, excessively

annoyingly

and the things that come out of my mouth surprise me

my brain can't tell me why it wants to hear these things spoken

they seem unrelated and useless

only stirring the cloudiness that's settled

+++

if you wait around long enough, the weather man will always be right.