My fingers tango with the backspace button and other keys
Notifications vibrate from my phone and I deem them a parasitic tease
Thoughts flood my mind but none of them forge cohesive storylines
Tangent reflections gloss over past relationships: overlooked warning signs
I attend an esteemed institution recognized by two syllables
But all my deferred reading just makes me feel miserable
They say this is the age of vitality
Yet, every day equates a decade closer to mortality
A young woman I’ve never met tells me to slug my skin
There’s an encyclopedia of preservation techniques—senescence is a sin
Our predecessors have graced us with a pandemic and a climate crisis
But are guaranteed a comfortable retirement and carry on in unimpeded bliss
They tell us to shop sustainably, a convenient and classist argument
Our menial wage affords us fast fashion; the textile waste is impermanent
Midnight makes its appearance after a lively day in the city
My energy is shot and the last adjective I can feign is “witty”
Both eyelids continue to droop and my sighs become more audible
I think everyone wishes conditions were more optimal