Unproductivity.
What a silly word.
What a massive waste of time.
While the minutes and even hours race by,
And apparently it’s already July.
The future is coming.
I realize that statement is true yes, but
That doesn’t mean I’m any less scared
That doesn’t mean I’m any less unprepared.
Time moves fast, most of the time that is.
However there are those moments
Where I’m struggling to stay afloat
Resisting the lull of falling behind
Persisting despite my hatred of
My somehow ever-racing mind
I don’t know what to do to slow down
I just need more time, time to breathe.
Time to relax, time to let life pass me by
Maybe just a for a day, where I could get away.
I could leave this town, and avoid
My suffocating obligations
And my equally frustrating
Responsibilities and duties .
And worst of all,
The winner of them all by far,
The anxiety that holds my brain hostage.
Telling me that there’s no time
Yelling at me to focus, to get things done.
But all I can do is sit. There, quietly.
And stare at the wall directly in front of me
For what seems like hours but they’re actually days.
And everything seems to be slipping by.
Minding it’s own business, and I wish it wouldn’t.
I feel as if I’ve lost my tie, my lock to my identity.
The person I thought I used to be
Dedicated and focused.
Is now frustrated and unmotivated
What am I supposed to do?
I suppose, I’ll continue to sit here.
Whether it be at my desk, on my bed.
Racking the ideas and words through my head.
Over and over attempting to
Wait out this unproductivity.
And praying that inspiration
Won’t take much longer
Because I’m afraid I’ve lost what I used to have.