She was here.
Physically.
But not really.
Mentally.
She’s in limbo.
Like between sleeping and awake.
Like between breathing and not.
An elaborate veneer of external liveliness.
“I’m Fine.”
The Joy Ticker
Question, why does joy
Feel temporary?
As if an intermission
Between tribulations?
A ragged, painful breath
Post marathon?
As if being broken
Is natural?
