What I Looked Up at 1 AM

The autocomplete knows me better than I do.

It finished the symptom before I could finish typing.

Suggested the worst thing. Then the worse thing. Then the worst.

My face in the phone screen, blue-lit and hollow,

watching itself worry.

Someone on Reddit had this. Someone's someone else

had this and didn't come back to update the thread.

I read all seventeen pages of their medical history

like it was prophecy. Like their numbers were mine.

3:47 AM now. Still scrolling.

The browser history a ladder I'm climbing down

into basements I didn't know were there.

My chest tighter with each link.

My breath the only sound in the apartment,

and I'm listening to it like evidence.