there’s a phrase for the feeling
you have when you want to throw
yourself in front of a moving car.
i don’t know what that is
but i’ve felt it. and so have you.
that’s what holds us together.
this urge to die, screaming
and without a sound, all at
there are things you
don’t want to do today.
there is food left untouched.
there is a bed which waits for
your warmth but receives
loneliness in return. there is an
exhaustion burying deep into
your bones. there are 38 missed
calls. the window which looks out
into the street is closed, and for
no reason at all, you spend the
afternoon looking at the shadows
your hand makes when held
against the light.
tomorrow will be better, maybe.
but today. we survive. that’s all
we can do on some days. survive.