I want something to rely on.

phone calls from a ghost
familiar and fun

i find myself, again.

i repeat and repeat and repeat

and re-pot and re-pot and re-pot

throw away the microwave
any attempt

care for a 90 year old stranger
and my father
and my soul
through an unfunny matinee

i move through the apartment quietly
as though
nothing ever happened here.

i drink from the water bottle
sleep under colder sheets

what keeps us moving?

it can't be silence.
it can't be neglect.
it can't be hope.

because i hoped and hoped and hoped.