staring at the ceiling,
tears forming near the rim of my eyes,
blurring my vision temporarily of dread and misfortune.
taking deep breaths,
forcing the loneliness down the deep pit of my throat
forcing the flooding worries to hide, tucked in a corner.
squeezing eyes shut,
dreams falling down a bleak abyss
sleep following the path of never
i want,
i want to pull the tears back
i want to pull the dreams back
i want to pull sleep back—
ten tears that escape from the narrow corners of my eyes
flowing down my cheeks and onto my lap where they melt and disappear
even my tears have lost.
nine questions scribbled into a diary late at night
I’m sorry that I wasn’t the rings to your Saturn,
because Saturn had cracked into two;
I’m sorry that I slipped salt into your sugar,
yet your sugar was bitter, I cried too.
I’m sorry that you never learned to care,
warmth,
pumpkin spice lattes
hot, spice-soaked coffee drizzled with a splash of cinnamon
coated with half-melted whipped cream, nestled by the delicate fire,
comfort,
your favorite cardigan
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