The Trial of James Moriarty

Today is one of those days where I

turned the blinds open above my desk to see the gray

shuffled my notebooks to make space

completely missed a meeting I promised to attend

waited until late to start editing a paper I actually care about

spun my phone up, waiting for texts

shoved responsibilities aside, again,

to which I told my mother, "Don't worry! I got it!"

do I?

binged through episodes of My Hero Academia, bowls of rice and tangerines balanced on my lap

swapped stories with my sister about a fictional romance between an old woman who's secretly a bird and a man who makes sure everyone never tans, ever

begged my mother to share more about the men she met before my father

I wonder if I'll have stories like her; the men I'll meet before my husband pft

googled up the salary of a video editor

wondered what being an ambassador might be like

watched the trial of James Moriarty

reminisced

danced to Careless Whisper when my body felt bored

sat here, wrote this.

I miss and I miss and I miss. 

I want and I want and I want.

But on days like this, I feel as if I've done nothing.

Moved nowhere.