The world is a cycle, a blur
Rinse and repeat and lather and rinse
Throat burns a little but that's normal right?
On and off and occasional
Never present enough for fear to set in
Yet periodically reemerges on cue
(Probably congestion, honestly, but
couldn't shake the feeling it was more like
heartburn for a hot minute in the morning)
Is the malaise from something within or simply
The boredom and meaninglessness of nothing
Nowhere to go
It's been nearly a month, more than a month?
Little brother won't stop pressing his snotty face
into mother's neck
And I don't trust he washes his hands
But mother is the only one who has left in weeks
the only one likely to catch anything anyway
if it spreads mostly through people, like they say, and not
the traces on objects and neighbors' cats
(The cat hasn't come by in a while)
It consumes thoughts and hopes and ideas
Is the slow swell of nausea
the salivation and bitter taste
in the sides of my mouth
from a sickness I don't even know I have
or simple fear, anxiety churning in my gut?
The lurching anticipation that doesn't explain
why it rises just before a bite of food
(sometimes, and only sometimes)
Has this bread always tasted like cardboard?
Does this protein bar normally taste
like vaguely sweet glue and solidity?
(I thought it was better than this)
(Dinner tastes better, ordinary)
The faint twinges in my chest, the small aches
that flash by or linger for a minute
that drove me to drop the bindings just in case
The cold: the house? My body? Lighter clothes?
The flush: headphones and hours of screen time
late at night, like in the past?
a sign of something, or just me
as I've always been?
I'm so tired
Because I didn't sleep enough, or something else?
Because the world is terrifying, and I can't?
Because if I have to be awake, I have to think?
The paranoia is dizzying
Is this ordinary?
I'm so tired
note to self:
you are congested
you have allergies
you dumb anxious fuck