a stress observed

poetry

our bodies are not designed to cope with such a universal human experience. our stomach lining melts away before us, our brains fill with images of terrible things and wake us from our slumber then refuse to let us return.

vomit colored vomit surprises no one
on the way out. their shock is more
in response to equation they’re running
in their head to include the resistance of both
air and gravity, and this projectile’s seeming
insistence on ignoring the interference.

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