the tightness behind my eyes today like i'm watching a movie of my life from very far away and i'm supposed to be feeling something but all i feel is the pressure of the springs in the couch and the knowledge that tank is only sleeping this deeply because he's guarding me from something i can't see yet, he's so devoted, i worry about who will protect him when i can't anymore and that's the good hour ending, there it goes, the panic blossoming in my chest that i’m only ever borrowing joy, never earning it or maybe deserving it, i don't know why i even bother sometimes if this is all it's ever going to be, a series of sprints followed by weeks of crawling and i'm tired of crawling, i'm so tired of it