Digging

I dig
holes for myself to crawl into all the time
and my nails sink into the skin on my arm--
not really a meaning

The tears don't fall, though I feel them build and build
but they hide, they grow, they tower
but they never come
and my break down becomes invisible

Because--
I. am. breaking.
inside I'm falling to my death
from the top of the world
to the bottom of the ocean.

Falling, falling, falling
like a child in a game
except there's no joy here--
not with so much to lose

I'm not going to make it over the mountain
I'm going to teeter on the top
I'm going to explode--
out over the country

and no one will find all the pieces
not ever
even if they looked
which I doubt.