Crying at work
Having nothing to cry about
is not much better.
Wanting to cry anyway is a damn waste
It crept in, an odorless
funk, and remains in the borders of my life.
I feel it weighing back my ribcage
, making my intake of air sad and slow.
My healthy lungs and tick-tick-heart
are lower than somber
They have moved to the periphery to be enveloped in viscous
I want my vitals back.