apathetic / unapologetic / saddened / and i think half of my keys are sticky / i should have been more careful, shouldn’t i have /

i.

i feel as though

i am a dog

returning to its vomit

ii.

a breathless revelation

within darkness and cocoon of

insanity - i feel the knowledge

of my lukewarm temperatures in faith

and feel unable to turn up the heat, because

how to change the amount of energy

and friction when you don't have anything

to determine where you are now

(my fingers and my hands and my skin)

(feel unfeeling and exhaustingly so)

iii.

i feel trapped in a series of

fantasies; each a dark and twisted version of the reality

i'm struggling to avoid

iv.

i know that if i had the option, i'd have

a million missed calls and a thousand

unread texts; except, i have four unread emails and four drafts of responses

still unfinished, up to a week later

(i feel unapologetic, surprisingly)

(regardless of their increasing importance to me)

v.

i am a machine, working through the motions of

click click click scroll switch tabs type four words press send and

publish and click click click scroll switch tabs type four words press send and

publish and click click click scroll switch tabs type four words press send and

publish and click click click scroll switch tabs type four words press send and

publish and click click click scroll switch tabs type four words press send and

publish and click click click scroll switch tabs type four words press send and

publish and click click click scroll switch tabs type four words press send and

publish and click click click scroll switch tabs type four words press send and

publish and click click click scroll switch tabs type four words press send and

publish and click click click scroll switch tabs type four words press send and

publish and click click click scroll switch tabs type four words press send and

vi.

the music plays in my ears and a rumbling

beating monotony sounds in response,

deep within my ribcage and

it calls out from beyond, to send messages of

somewhat unapologetic apologies to the friends i haven't

spoken to in so long that i don't recall what their

words mean, anymore, and i'm not all that sure how to

read any remaining data of what i've kept from our

conversations of old so i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry for not

saying anything; i'm sorry that my way of saying

'i don't know what to say' is to not respond for such a long time

that you think i'm rotting away as a blistering corpse six feet beneath

the grass i fertilize and the flowers that feed off my remains

while you wait anxiously for a response from my

apathetic

unapologetic

saddened

self

and i think half of my keys are sticky

i should have been more careful, shouldn't i have

both with my keys and with your hearts

(i'm sorry and this time i really mean it)

vii.

i wish i had things to say; nice things to say and

just

things to say,

in general

(because)

(the)

(words)

(aren't)

(making)

(sense,)

(a n y m o r e)

viii.

i spell out words in careful

order and recall what i've said months and days ago

to the ghosts with your names and

to the people you claim to be

(it is wrong)

(to be jealous)

(of you, for knowing)

(who you are, so early in the game)

(when i am a bit ahead in physical)

(space, yet, cannot spell my name without)

(wondering who this person is)

ix.

i wish i knew if these were the right numbers

x.

i wish i cared if these were the right numbers

xi.

i wish i cared about something, today