...life is so awful that all you can do is scratch at your skin while walking in a circle around your house, which you've never seen before, listening to Tracy Chapman's The Promise on continuous loop.
Sometimes things hurt so much you're completely numb to the headline news, no matter how many trillions are involved, nor how many deaths. Sometimes you clutch your phone, certain that you don't know another living soul, wishing you did, because then you could ask what your name is.
Sometimes you're so overwhelmed you don't even remember getting dressed, or notice that your pants are backwards, or that your towel fell off your head six hours ago, and the mess beneath it was left to weave itself into an actual nest.
Sometimes you're stretched beyond your threshold. Sometimes you're so fragile a cool breeze could shatter you into a million pieces.
And sometimes, when nothing will ever be right in the world ever again, and all you see is haze, you walk into a room and discover that deep down in the recesses of the husk that is you, lo and behold, there was one little smile hiding down there.
Maybe I won't evaporate today.