normal [alternately titled: i hate poetry]

normal is what normal is.

at least, that's what i thought.

how many years did it take?

more than ten.

more than twenty.

was i strong or was i weak?

i turn these pill bottles over in my hand

looking for an answer in the tiny black text

but finding none.

in my normal there is a darkness oceans deep.

there are tears shed and tears stuck

somewhere deep inside my skull.

there is light, so bright it's blinding,

and i fly

like icarus towards the sun

but both of us are doomed

and i go tumbling down again.

in my normal there is a hate

that lurks inside my ribs

quieted slightly by the bones

that slowly creep
up from under my skin.

in my normal there is worry

like a hive of wasps inside my head

they say a panic attack feels as though 

your heart has stopped.

but my heart beats and beats and beats

like a bomb.

methodical ticks.

in my normal i am in control.

until i'm not.

is it the green wire or the red?

tick. tick. tick. tick. 

better cut them all. 

they tell me that i'm wrong

these people with all these letters

trailing like ducklings after their names.

they say my normal is not normal after all

and it rolls off their tongues 

so easily.

they don't notice the thunderclap

that roars inside my head.

how do you re-define normal?

what comes after three?

is this color purple?

yellow?

red?

what is normal?

who am i?

isn't my normal

me?

so i gather up the folds of my darkness,

clutching them to my heart

and they do not understand.

why I would choose to drown

but i am lost in the darkest blue,

wasps humming in my head

i trace a cold finger along my bones

and breathe.