i am snot sobbing onto a piece of paper
while my boss is fielding calls
from doctors
about her liver function.
she is worried about fatalities
as i’ve convinced myself
i am going to prison
over an email
that went to the wrong person.
today i am stacking worries
on my chest,
thick jenga blocks
huddled together
to stack up strain.
i search
and search for a failure,
until i find it.
until it swallows me.
until i am so far underneath it
that the only thing left is an outstretched hand,
begging for breath.

strega clare manning is a baltimore based poet. she has been previously published in Bullshit Lit, fifth wheel press, Indie Blu(e) Publishing, Bi Women Quarterly, and Voicemail Poems. when she’s not writing, she’s playing with her cats, gardening with her partner, and lifting heavy weights. you can find her on instagram @stregashewrote.