Closed in so tight by this ten-cornered room;
It rains through the window with thunder and gloom.
The branches reach out and scratch with anxiety;
But my window stays closed, as I pose in shear piety.
I blast my heart-attack music as loud as she dares;
Rest on the bed deep in thought with no cares.
Need some water, cotton mouthes swam in the same canal as me as a child, and memory manifests.
Tuck myself in comfortably about my new nest;
And what's best, or even better, or maybe just a tad less:
Is that I just cannot come to accept the fact that life is worth breathing without you:
Especially, lately--eyes shaking, dry heaving in doubt of truth.
Pretty sure you know what I mean, unless I'm asleep once again, and this is just a memory of a dream on replay. Who knows these days. Certainly ways...to stay lazy and lose thought when down under