ibs

 I'm thinking about how worms can grow back when they're cut in half

And how they can be split in two and not be ruined

But continue below the hard cracked surface

To rend the earth itself and turn and mix 

and grind back into it richness, multiplied

 

I am thinking about how my gut is a brain

but it feels like the earth

heavy and wet and full of life forms crawling crawling crawling around 

unidentified churning kneading like bread like taffy like fudge

but the kind that makes you want to throw up

 

It is giving me indigestion

But it is also only the upper six feet

The box inside is much deeper and isn't hard or cracked or rich it is small and it is scared

I am scared

 

The nameless dread of being born

The silence that echoes from everything inside that cannot be let out 

A head cracked open and spilt on the table, cranberry juice dripping a pool on the floor