Each day I start with a book
A yawn, a stretch, and I thump down the steps
Eager as each day before

A navy armchair and fluorescent desk lamp
Are the only friends of mine

Each day I start with a book
Switch on my lamp, find my page, and I’m lost in thickening daze
Just as each day before

I’m grateful for my friends; My armchair keeps my limbs at rest
As my lamp illuminates forgotten words

Each day I start with a book
But a week or so ago,
Something was not quite right
Perched on my chair, I switched on my lamp
But something was off

“Now, not a moment’s more thought, time is ticking away” I say
So I crack open my book, and find my page
Eager as each day before

Each day I start with a book
But just the other morning,
Perched on my chair, I switch on my lamp, and squint at the page
I never had to squint before

But I was so far lost in the plot
I didn’t give it another thought

Each day I start with a book
But on this day, I notice my dimming lamp
Her light, reliably fluorescent white
Now shone dull yellow-gold
But I was intent on finishing my book
Eager as each day before



That was the last day I started with a book
I perched on my chair, and for hours I sat, eyes lazily scrolling forgotten words
I read late into the night

And I was just getting to the good part, when
everything went dark.

imagine: there are two bodies floating
at the top of the lake, and you know them
by name-  one is the girl who has always
loved you, and the other is the girl you
have always loved, even though she tells you
she could never love you back. both are
drowning, do you save one, or do you
drown too?

I look forward into the great expanse, and

I see nothing. It is dry and it is arid and nothing

grows, not the toughest of  weeds. I walk and

I hear nothing. Only the echoing solitary footsteps I

force onwards. Ghosts and tears have fallen long ago.

All options blur into one: a steamed mirror;

a compass that cannot decide which way is North. So

onwards and forwards into the plane, though blinded and

fearful. For there must be something out there,

something for me.

Your fingers play my ribcage bones like piano keys
All my body aches
Why do you affect me like you do?

Pinned between linen sheets and your warm body
I feel whole
Like there aren't certain parts of me missing anymore

Before I met you, I was half empty
You've filled up all of my empty parts

I am now full