I haven’t cried in months

I haven’t cried in months.
The kind of tears reserved for me
Not for the 22 books I’ve read this year
Or the shows and movies
I drag myself from my room to watch with family 

“When was the last time you cried?”
Well. The last clear memory
One I might never forget
with how things are looking,
Curled up in the top bunk of my college dorm
The morning after the election.

I went to bed at 3
I couldn’t bear to watch anymore.
I sobbed against the wall, skipped class.
That night I stared wide-eyed at a tv playing the muppets,
Surrounded by friends just as shaken as me.
The world is breaking and they ask me,

“Do you think you’re depressed?”
Maybe. Probably. Just like everything else
I don’t wanna think about it.
I work til I drop, read til I’m blind, sleep in til noon.
I don’t feel empty, I just fill myself with anything but myself.
I can’t look at him too closely right now.

There’s something in the way
I need to finish before I start something else.
Throw myself wholeheartedly into a world
just to move on to the next.

Escapism? Understimulation?
Everything is just words.
I’m just words. Actions and words.
Though the lack of actions is my problem.

My last album of the day was Radiohead.
I’m two days behind.

My boyfriend tells me to scream into a pillow.
He lives 1495 miles away.
I see his face on my phone screen and I still can’t cry. 

It’s just words.
Words come out of my eyes where my tears should be.