Crush

I want to get it out.
Cut it out of my chest like a cancer,
this sticky, black, heavy burden that

crushes.



Not the beautiful, crashing, cleansing 

crush

of the ocean waves; the elegant pounding of the 
built up tides.



Get it out, this maleficent, heinous, unspeakable

crusher.



Not remotely near to the joyful tension that resonates as with a new

crush;

the boy at school sending tender glances and a playful wink.



How can I rid my lungs, my articulations and my 'wits about me' of this

crushing?



My heart and flesh cry out; my soul longs and even faints.







I am nothing.