It is 2:96 a.m. and I am silently
tucked away inside my bedsheets
quarantined with the internet
and i ate my seventh turkey sandwich
i really thought yesterday was thursday
and the only way i know what day it is
is when my spotify discovery playlist
refreshes itself and reminds me monday
was just here a moment ago
so anyway
what hasn't seemed to change
is the thought that bugs me
about how i'm here in this very moment
beside myself in every woe and torment
as i tell myself i'm the only one
who could ever claw myself out
of this hole i dug myself into
and if i keep on waiting
this ditch will be a grave
where me and my dreams went to die
so while this raging contagion persists
and most of us quarrel to stay home
i hope my disciplines can do the same
and emerge victorious in the end
because i'm getting a bit sick and tired
of feeling like a pen full of stories untold
and looking desperately for paper
when i'm really a marker
and everything
is a canvas
-
inspired by April PAD (Poem-A-Day) #5 for the word "Moment"
follow me on Instagram to see the freshest works @Ephrain_
About the Creator
DEUXQANE
93% of communication is non-verbal. Here's the other 7%.
I'm a licensed therapist. I love my kettlebell, steel mace, and rower. I've a soft spot for sci-fi, rollerblading, herbalism, poetry, drag race, EDM, and spending time in nature.
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