i sometimes float
in the kitchen
wondering
where to go.
the time oozes
from every crevice;
the digital numbers
on the oven
fall away like weak
magnets slip from the fridge
door,
like my mind as i linger
on the floor, cradling
a cup of tea
yearning for an urge,
a drip of
inspiration.
but here i am, boring
as ever
filled with
frustration that frolics
and laughs,
telling me how good
i will never be
that’s all i ever do:
‘be’.
admiring others that do
more than me;
i am good at loving
and seeing,
but what will that ever
come to?
i sometimes laugh at myself
instead of being flattened,
i blow myself up
and burst.
sometimes i am plastered
against a wall,
and i give up
and blend in.
Nov 17, 2020
Nov 17, 2020 at 10:43 AM UTC
i sometimes float
in the kitchen
wondering
where to go.
the time oozes
from every crevice;
the digital numbers
on the oven
fall away like weak
magnets slip from the fridge
door,
like my mind as i linger
on the floor, cradling
a cup of tea
yearning for an urge,
a drip of
inspiration.
but here i am, boring
as ever
filled with
frustration that frolics
and laughs,
telling me how good
i will never be
that’s all i ever do:
‘be’.
admiring others that do
more than me;
i am good at loving
and seeing,
but what will that ever
come to?
i sometimes laugh at myself
instead of being flattened,
i blow myself up
and burst.
sometimes i am plastered
against a wall,
and i give up
and blend in.
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