depleted tender_square maybe it’s lost hours of sleep. but my body refuses rest when offered, unwilling to slip into unconsciousness for long stretches. i wake with a head of cotton, stretched and thick. i shuffle sluggish and cynical into days though i’m lighter than i’ve been in years. i want to fast-forward through this next part, the no-turning-back-can’t-retract-what-i’ve-said ache of moving on. why must i witness his face crumple into a discarded idea, a trash-bound ball missing rim? my heart is a burned-out building, charred and smoldering. 220904 what's it to you? who go blather from