start and stop

return to work

days blur in falsities plastered on disconnected visages

stock the shelves while i sort the incident into neat little chunks

bury them in the back of the cooler with some ricotta

forgotten, discarded, but still counts

luck had nothing to do with still being alive

despite what people wish to me when i recall it for their indulgence

surface-level closeness for a moment

between metal shelves and in non-slip shoes

regurgitated details

still feels like a dream

the sounds on repeat

empty wails in a heap

bacon before the break

now faced in dim-light coolers

sometimes things disconnect

haze before hunger

regret in remembrance