My Cardboard Balcony

Hope Sounds Like Static by Belinda Roddie This is not a deep or inspiring poem. This is a panic attack typed out on a phone. This must be what Heaven feels like when you're the only one there, alone. This will be the first time I haven't fought my demons. Instead, I've brought them home.

"Hey." I said nothing. My vision was blurred. I had trouble breathing. "Hey!" It was Haley. She was holding me, perusing my face. I finally exhaled. "Are you okay?" "Yeah. Y-yeah." I inhaled again. "I'm a little bit shaken, but I'm fine." "You went totally white." "Did I? That's impressive." She didn't laugh at the obvious jab at my race.