Thought about calling
But I told myself,
tomorrow.
Little lies we tell ourselves
To make it through
Thoughts I’ve had
Places I’ve been
Conversations in my head
Beneath my breath
Quietly looking at a sunset somewhere
Or a new sun rising
The moon shape shifts through another month of black velvet curtains
Opening
Closing
It’ll go away again
Eventually
This yearning
And the world will keep turning
As it always does
*and there are phone calls that I should make but I get lost in a crash of overthinking; so the days spin out, weaving walls between family members that become too difficult, too awkward to crawl over.
Another:
