Just Today

What a trip—

my mind glued to everything

I watched slip through my fingers.

The tips of my fingers are raw

from turning the pages of my identity

without context for the right page.

Eventually I’ll shake this feeling of orbit,

as if the sun is a cooler place

than this hell hole

we greet every morning

with open eyes.

Somehow my hands lift in the air,

my tongue spits praise,

while my hope laughs

at my pointless effort.

My feet bleed

from being dragged to every corner

of this unimportant day,

all while keeping posture

that resembles happiness.

My teeth hurt.

A natural smile only fatigues the cheeks—

I guess that says a lot, huh?

“Honey?”

“Sorry—one minute.

I just had to fix my tie.”