If you knew this feeling

The slow filling up
of dread
permeating my organs

creeping fingers
dancing their tips
around my heart
& the quick slick
clenching grip

If you knew this feeling

(like an over fertilized weed,
whose seeds were planted & watered
before an age of reason,

whose roots have grown strong and thick
& refuse to be hacked away with:
paxil or prozac or sersone

entwining my soul with briars
& thorns leaving dried scabs &
red scars & stinging scratches.)

That I'm powerless to stop

or rationalize
or logically explain

If you felt
as if your stomach
were stuffed with mothballs
and your lungs choked

If you knew
(what I know)

That this will destroy & transcend
all the other emotions we share
That it will fester & infect

(oozing it's toxins
onto our lush green landscape,
splashing pollutants
into our warm salty ocean,
fumes floating
into our clear faded blue sky)

Because I know this feeling
Would she still be worth cultivating a friendship with?

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