“The Things I Have”

I have my head in my hands
and my heart in my throat
with some words left unspoken
and it eats me alive

I’ll have depression for dinner
with a side of anxiety
and I can’t leave the table
until I finish my plate

I have shattered the things
I thought I’d never see broken
and glue, tape, and words
always fall out of reach

I have enough whiskey at hand
to kill a small elephant
but you never know; fingers crossed
it may last the whole night

I have fists that land punches
on mirrors and drywall
I can’t even tell where I’m swinging
Guess we’re losing this fight

I have a Phillips screwdriver
but all my loose screws are flat-head
So, I pick at emotional scabs
until they become scars