most days

I spend a lot of time looking at
the ground, look
for spots I could curl into.
The warm grass at parks, the sides of
a road, a field I could disappear into.
(The corners of your arms.)
Why is gravity always so heavy?
Loving me straight into
the ground. I can’t stop
looking at the ground.
I dont even know if I was here today,
I almost hit a car today. 
I’m clawing myself out,
I just don’t know from what or where.
I think about hiding a lot, 
more then I want to admit. 
The lights are always too bright,
what I mean is sometimes I don’t want 
to exist. Everything feels like a crawl,
feels like bruised knees. 
Then there’s you, the warmest thing
I want to sink into.
I hope to god you can swim. 



The chest pains mean conflict 
mean look inside. 
“Aren’t you tired?” I whisper to my body.
I cradle myself like I can disappear.
Cradle myself how I want to be held. 
Cup my tears before they hit the ground.
Accidentally reabsorb what I’m trying 
to let go. Sticky heavy residue marks this body. Sadness seeps late at night, alone
is how I collapse. 
I turn the lights off. Say it’s just shadows, 
just the moonlight dancing on my skin. 
Just the dark, just that night, just this night.
“I’m just so fucking tired” I whisper into myself.