poetry

low

I made the bed at 3 PM

I haven’t cleaned in weeks

I don’t know what I eat these days

I don’t know if I sleep

My laundry’s piled on my desk

And work litters the floor

I’ve lost the energy to live

But don’t care anymore

The world is pressing through the walls

I can’t get out of bed

I don’t want to be useless, but

I can’t escape my head

A day, a week, a month goes by

It all blurs into one

I fall behind, but guess it’s fine

There’s nothing to be done

Maybe I should worry that

The nightmares have come back

Or that I make myself feel sick

Or my life is not on track

But instead I’m tired

So I think I’ll close my eyes

Maybe when I open them

Everything will look alright.

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