there’s blood on the treadmill again

do you feel
when I get anxious
about your leaving?
a tip:
notice the way I
cram as many memories
into our dialogue
as possible.

The oversaturation
comforts me,
as I believe the myth that it will make up
for later—
like a hibernating bear’s
fat storage
to last until summer,

rays of light, you
fail to notice
my desperation, I
continuously believe broken
myths, morals non-existent, untrue
tripping on treadmills,
and I’ll get up and
get up and
get up.

—By Teresa Haberstroh ♦