I cry these days
When I read positive news
Something shatters in me
And I think it is hope
Apathy has become a bedfellow
An unwanted lover loitering nearby
I feel myself falling apart, alone
My eyes find dark space
Settling there, trying to disappear
My bones grinding into the ground
Until rooted fingers born from their shavings
Grip my lungs, squeezing tighter and tighter
And my life screeches from chapped lips