look, i’m real sorry
i can’t hear you over the roar
of my anxieties.
it’s awful crowded here in my head these days
and your voice didn’t quite make the cut
when it came time for the attention triage.
i thought i heard you say something about
peace and quiet,
but i’ve only got so much to give
and i’ve already portioned myself out between
all these greedy fears of mine,
so all i have to offer now is that empty space
those slack points of nothingness and exhaustion.
but i’ve got nothing left.