she’s memorized numbers and held onto them like they are her lifeline
like the time she memorized the poem by edna st Vincent millay because it was the first piece of emotion that made her feel
but when she picks up the phone to press the keys with trembling fingers
the voices tell her
“no one wants to hear you complain about your oh-so-horrible life”
so she sets the phone down
and takes a shaky breath in
and a shaky breath out
oh its fine, I’m okay
that’s what she tells herself
when she’s too tired to fill up empty spaces with justifications and excuses and
the truth