may

navigation of the deviating fog,
when the ground molds into the smudgy sky,
and the perspectives of hopeful living get flipped inside out,
the sweat that runs off my nervous forehead,
when i start thinking about what's really happening,
my anxious clapping murmurs,
punchy cardiac,
flailing stutter attack,
the words that won't form into the waves of sound making,
but the letters across my chest read:
"Still Trying"