Room Temperature

 i am room temperature
a constant state of zero

bhere is a roadblock
between me and my destination
a roadblock between
my pen and my paper
my thoughts and my mouth
i want to do something remarkable
rememberable
and I'm too afraid to do so
i'm afraid of my gray color
my tree which doesn't grow fruit
my uniformed writing
my stream that flows neither direction

i am lost
but I've never had a plan
i think I am somewhere in between
and I am going nowhere

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/46or3g/prenatal_bliss/d09ggel

 https://oc.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/471uhb/anxious/d09gu7k