After last week
I think I fell ill
with agoraphobia
Or perhaps my mind
retreated
turning hermit
and hidden
Maybe my thoughts
were trying to convince
my mouth to become
mute
My heart could have
tempted my limbs
to refrain from making
my routine tired
sloppy movements
out of bed
It could have been your
words
They could have gotten through the cracks
of my protective skull
and paralyzed
my inner spirit
to connect and inspire
and fly
Or maybe I was turned into a vampire
over the course
of the dreary long
tar night
Count must have snuck in
under the tiny slit of my door
and drained the life within me
forcing me to refrain
from light and the beauty
of a newborn day

Whatever it is...

I don't want to hear a single
syllable uttered
in my presence
Not a single w-o-r-d
hurled into my environment
like a sneaky soapy "I" or "me" or...
Today all I want is to
barricade myself in this
gorgeously empty room
and believe that I am the only person
on this planet
and that I don't owe a
a ******* thing
to anyone
especially

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