The redundrum bush blooms, blocking my windows view of the street... I really don't mind though. not sure if I'll ever sleep. wanting to play guitar, but can't feel words enough to sing. waiting for online therapy, when there's nothing wrong you can see from a screen.
Blooms from the bush outside my window block the noise from the street. I lay in bed where I've been for days wondering if I'll ever sleep. too busy for even the bare minimum, the shower is not a place I can see me being. I should get clean, and I want to eat, but there's not been a thing in my fridge for weeks, except the bread from last Saturday that I keep forgetting needs meat. I haven't made it to the store in months. On every daily list that I used to make, there was a space that always read, "groceries".
But I haven't made it to the store because I've been so busy, unable to get out of bed, unable to play or sing... Im hid away from something, but I think that "something", is here in bed with me.
listening to the Sun get hot then dim, and do it all over again, behind the redundrum blooms at my window, blocking my view of the street, showing nothing here wrong with me