Numb.

I thought I had the answers in the bottom of my Rose bottle.

But it turns out that's not really what I'm craving at 2pm on a Friday, turning my thoughts towards an empty weekend in quarantine, alone.

I thought I had the answers in the copious amounts of food I was consuming.

But it turns out that's not what I'm craving at 1am on a Saturday morning, coping with the fact that quarantine or not, I am probably going to end up alone.

I thought I needed time, then, to absolve my pain, but really, turning my mind towards the nothingness that is isolation,

it makes me numb, and I

crave a numbness above all other cravings,

all of my other real and imagined desires, or miseries.