Crying at work is
unacceptable.
Having
nothing to cry about is not much better.
Wanting to cry anyway is a damn
waste of tears.
It crept in, an
odorless funk, and remains in the borders of my life.
I feel it weighing back my
ribcage, making my intake of air sad and slow.
My healthy lungs and tick-tick-
heart are lower than
somber.
They have moved to the periphery to be enveloped in
viscous grey nothing.
I want my vitals back.