all of my interests
are inside of me
nothing external
exists as part of me
all I can think is the same thought:
I'm hungry
I want to eat
I'm hungry,
I'm hungry
and then:
My body feels sore,
and why does my body feel sore?
I smell my pillow in the morning
I know how long my fingernails are
My shirt is dirty in a spot I didn't always see.
Anxious in a pit: inside of me
You can't feel it too,
so I try to describe it.
like insidious and chronic and quiet pain
it is impossible to describe
unless I know why
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