Rabid, Rapid

my days are all confused
tuesday thinks it's friday and the weekends all get lost
and when friends are glad it's friday
i'm alone
(did your mind make you say
"in love"
and not "alone"?
robert smith in his smudged lipstick and jagged sharpie hair
was my lover for a while
or i wanted him to be)
night is day is gone and i can't
count the hours anymore
the clock has four times
maybe five
it shows and i don't think the others
even matter anymore
there is 12:34 and 6:12
a couple others and nothing
in between
to count.

i am hungry
and tired
and want to take these clothes off
close my eyes
and sleep

i want
to want something
i shouldn't even think about.

i want to want things
i should have had
before.

i want to
speak
without breathing
to breathe
without speaking
to fall and
not
land
so hard
every single time.

count your blessings, not your tears
it all evens out in the end.