I wanted to cry
It’s a strange coping mechanism I have for when
Things don’t add up but
The air is dry and
There’s no sense in breathing it in
Anymore

I couldn’t cry
My mind was not there
In that wavering state
Bordering fear and anger and
The air is dry and
I am not breathing it in
Anymore

I keep opening my email
Hoping for a petty distraction from
My senses all piling in at once
Giving in to heat
And breaking reason but
The air is dry and
Breathing is not living
Anymore

I find joy in letting things go
It’s come as natural as beating
In the chest
I am awake but dream to wake
On a day sun really shines and
The numbers really add up while
The air is dry and
Breath is not a good enough excuse
Anymore

I wanted to cry
But the well’s all dried up
Parched of all its
Perceived life

--
c