miyako and renata

i never really thought of myself as much of a quitter
until i called my mom at 4:40am, breathless for no reason,
caught in a strange dry-cry that kept making my eyes twitch
and lose focus on the more relevant parts of the room.

i keep noticing corners and how dull the edges are.

i dropped japanese tonight.
tomorrow night, i will drop german.

i am a quitter in every sense of the word,
except i only quit the things i should not quit
and i never quit the things i should quit.

i am a terrible person who is wasting her parent's hard earned money on an education i don't actually want.

i just want a job and an apartment and a cat and a bed and a window with a view
and a wooden floor
and a brick wall.

i want to sleep forever.
i can't close my eyes.

this is an anxiety attack.

i don't want to be here.
i don't want to be anywhere.
i don't want to be.

and when the thoughts like that start popping up,
i realize i haven't taken my medication in days.

so i'll eat some cheese and crackers
and go to bed,

knowing that everything i have ever felt in the world can be stopped by a small chalky capsule taken daily at 4:45pm.