Interrogration (6/30)

is there a cure? 

wait, are you sure

what is it called again?

can I catch it too?

and you're positive

there's no more doing

for the doctors to do? 

 maybe it's stress? 

aren't you a little depressed? 

don't you sleep too much? 

maybe try a little less? 

or should you sleep more? 

my uncle's cousin's best friend

had success with that before. 


in all of the ways  

that sickness covers my days

the repetition of questions

and well-meaning suggestions

is kindness and trying but also litter and clutter.

i find myself wide-eyed amidst the interrogatory debris,

struggling to recall which of these voices (if any) is "me".