i feel sad at 11:56 when ive had
cups of coffee
the sadness lives in the back of my neck
the pit of my stomach
behind my eyes
it's the uncomfortable impression carpet leaves on every palm that holds weight for too long
feet cold enough to feel
lump in my throat

Forming my mouth into a smile seems like the world's biggest, most useless lie
Useless.
I still haven't cut my nails
they are nice reminders of my own anxieties
my palms haven't made up their minds--
whether they should stay or go
stay and hold

who knows if this is art
i can't seem to think
analytically
rationally
clearly

but i know i want to be smaller

I know i shouldn't want that

I know I miss her.

I don't know how.

12:09 and it's dark
I am s[o confused]ad