not today satan, but call me tomorrow

i just can’t
there should be more
some definitive end
but i just
can’t
i would go to bed
but the way that
my heart is hammering
i know
i won’t sleep
there is a fragility
the kids are gone
i feel broken
at the verge of tears
i just can’t
if i let myself
give in to this
nebulous sorrow
this compounded dread
irritating anxiety
if i could fall to dust
to be blown away
leave this corporeal mess
i just can’t
my brain will not
stop doomscrolling
my every interaction
since my earliest memories
replaying
in sepia toned
slow motion
each and every
single foible
mistake
catastrophe
i just can’t
motivate myself
to begin the next
over investment
writing a new tale
destined to be ignored
pour myself
into someone else’s pain
and parade new scars
like a debutante
at the spring ball
bleed ink
as my guts growl
and the coffee maker
sits dead
mocking me
the bright yellow
cafe bustelo
sad and forlorn
i just can’t
everything feels
far too raw
vividly viridescent
prismatic rays
scorching
blistered skin
cooking organs
every single nerve
firing spasmodically
in time to
my frantic heartbeat
i just can’t
okay
i cannot
if i am honest
i probably
don’t want to anyway
i won’t
because
honestly
i just can’t
i’m sorry

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