Jupiter the Blue

I forgot crying.
It's been happening
in my dreams quite often,
but I had forgotten
how to cry in real life.


And then I had an incident
of crying curled against
the kitchen counters,
and my eyes have 
teared up all day long
at strange times.


In the car,
listening to Fleet Foxes,
at McDonald's,
on my bike.


Because I'm sad.


And I think I'm
just sad.
Nothing has made
me sad in particular,
it's just the universe, really.
I am sad in a way all its own,
and I remember the feeling
from months ago.
The day of the first hospital,
eating a chicken sandwich
afterwards,
and sitting in a silence.


The vague aching
I know roams my body,
and sometimes naps,
or takes long sleeps,
and then it stretches
its long limbs
and is here again.


Because I forgot the sad
for a long time,
and I am so afraid
so scared
of it still being here,
living inside me.


It comes on again
and it feels like it never left.
I forget things,
my memory omits
so many things,
such long stretches of time
are gone.


I lose my memory.


It's erased.


I am scared.
Maybe this is the
rest of my life,
and maybe
parts of it will
be spent curled
against kitchen sinks
and steering wheels
because I don't know
how to cope 
with a universe
like this.


Maybe there won't ever 
be any strong arms 
to catch me in my 
moment of descent,
when I sit on my bed
and stare
because I am too
conflicted to move.


Perhaps I will
be alone in some
large way
for the rest of
forever.


Maybe I will
have days where I eat
my feelings 
and then regret it 
and feel sick,
and maybe I'll
always imagine
the cars 
hitting trees.


Because suddenly
it feels as though nothing changed
at all.