this isn't an explanation

Can you tell that I didn’t want to get out of bed?
That I didn’t get dressed today
-or yesterday-
just wore the same thing I put on
after sitting on the cold floor of the shower,
trying to reach all the way around myself.

I say yesterday, but I mean last month - 
I just didn’t have the words then,
and now everything is lingering.

Have you ever gone from smiling to empty with only the smallest shift of air?
Barely enough to rustle the grass,
but now you sit,
stuck in the pause before tears,
wondering what emotion you should be trying to feel.

Have you ever lain on your floor
(exhausted, looking for a new perspective)
watching the paper cranes twisting,
wondering if they know they’re strung together,
that real birds can fly?

And have you counted days in chipped nail polish,
and the daffodils climbing out of the ditch?
Reflections of the sun, only now it’s dusk and the sun is gold
-so gold the air feels thick-
the most beautiful moment
right before it all goes dark.

All this is to say - I don’t know how I am,
or what I’m trying to write
with these patched together pieces.

None of this makes sense,
but I don’t need it to make sense.
Sometimes words aren’t meant to explain;
sometimes they let you just….be.