there is a book I do not want

to read, but have to, and another

one I need to write, but can’t

feeling bad is always

an option, but instead

of crying, I could read

poetry to you

you’re so much more in charge of your life than I am

two years ago in front of temporary friends

I lay down with

my eyes closed and wasn’t

able to tell directions, distances

or exits—I

kept spinning

endlessly because

I can’t take hold of anything, I can’t

hold hands