Nina Jouval
Here I go again.
My eyelids strain to stay open
feeling like heavy weights.
Time to get back to work.
I want to run infinitely but
my body is brittle
my mind is misty.
Back to work.
I am stuck, drowning in thick glue,
living the same day
over and over and over and over and over
again.
Again, I awaken and cower at the sun
watching it rise and fall endlessly.
Fingers strike my keyboard
for hours, days, weeks, months.
Eyes transforming into mechanisms,
thoughts becoming habitual.
Am I afraid?
Of course I am.
Walk into the dark and don’t look back.
Make sure you don’t. look.
Back to work
again.
Clamor 