I am hoarding sample tubes of over-priced mascara In my waterproof coat pocket, It’s a reward for remembering to go to therapy. Tourists clutch shopping bags in sweaty palms and the sales person asks if I need help finding anything, I avoid eye contact as I make my way towards the gilded elevator. Everyone else is on vacation But I’m paying with money I don’t have to try and talk about my feelings twenty floors up.

I have no knack for self-assertion I bite my lips and mumble “fuck” to fill the silence. When I sleep I don’t remember any of my dreams. People say they’re sorry and they hope I’m feeling better, But the lump in my throat won’t let me tell them that it’s not their fault.

we are all tired, There’s no need to perform being busy, Have you seen the bags under my eyes? The artifice of the movie you haven’t seen is nesting beneath my skin Email time-stamps re-appear as welts on my shoulder blades this mundanity is hounding me Faces blur// Forms appear Pay $3 for a train ride.

No command Just be cool Find a black flag cassette at the library.