what i was thinking about the days before the calendar flipped

I want this terrible year to end

but then I don’t because that seems wasteful

especially as I feel my 7-year-old
play footsie with me under the table
at this very moment in time
I am writing down life

his skin so soft it feels unreal

and my house is warm and I am in a body that

works so well

like a machine
or at least a small appliance

and I wake up each day
and I have people who love me

even though I am half terrible

but my mind feels unattached

suspended above me

maybe

it works less well I guess

it thinks about the ways the world

pushes up against you

how things get gone

people die

I am not sure how we keep doing this

over and over

until we are the one to go