I can’t help doing nothing

the world is droll there is nothing of interest now
i’m stuck in the inertia of rest now

my emotions have peaked, my senses fatigued
there’s nothing that i love or detest now

the moon’s ablaze, wispy clouds have flitted away
a peculiar lunacy has made its way into my chest now

too high up i sit, this doesn’t feel like a gift
i must thrash and kick myself out of this nest now

all thoughts feel bogged, the heart has overextended from its job
a referee is needed to stop this internal contest now

the petty worries pile over, none of them ever getting older
it is my own ideas in my head that are the pest now

baggy eyes, cramped thighs every inch of my body cries
this rest is fatal; we covet some work some unrest now

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Posted Sep 3, 2020, 10:13 PM UTC

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