I tell you that I’m getting better.I clean out my drawers, open the windows, and fix myself up as...

I tell you that I’m getting better.

I clean out my drawers,

open the windows, and fix

myself up as if I am going out

in 15 minutes. You believe it.

You see me doing the things

that I never did when I was

swallowed whole by darkness.

You think that I’ve escaped.

You think that that I’ve gotten

better because my skin

no longer aches, no longer

is red and swollen, and looks

like I’ve been through war.

You think that I’ve gotten

better because my eyes

no longer look like an evicted

home. You think that I am

getting better, but really

I am becoming more empty

then I was before you started

noticing my unstoppable collapse.