Steampunk grind me down kind of heart
Pulsing static cling through bones that ache and groan
Coming alive again, the feeling of awake
I pull cobweb crochet hand-me-downs from eyes that even still find the light too cumbersome
Squint, pull the rusted hood back over and sleep once more
The struggle is real
Mind like a coal factory belching dust and debris
Keep shoveling, shoveling until it rages into an inferno
Only then will it not stay quiet
No found fuel has yet to ease this hunger for something...more
Lost amongst wave after wave of heat, knocking me down
Slipped grip fingers and toes gone haywire
Workers on strike