When I start to wonder what I could be doing with my life,
I listen to music.
I lay underneath my bed,
Staring at the slats.

I think about why I'm not going outside,
Why I can't schedule anything,
Or even get the motivation to finish maybe ten minutes of homework.
So I scream the lyrics.

Almost loud enough to be heard through my tightly shut door.

When the music is overwhelming,
Blocking out the world,
I cry the words, loud and long
Until my throat is hoarse,
And I have slipped into a comfortable numbness.

Here, I lay on the carpeted floor
The wooden slats a few inches from my face,
As all thoughts are blasted away
And I can be at peace.