17:30 (a poem)

A rainy Sunday spent mostly at home…

I woke up again
not knowing
if it was already tomorrow
or still today

The darkness is indistinguishable
that’s probably why
I’ve spent the better part of the day here
under the covers
in front of a glowing screen

What is this autumn Sunday
trying to tell me?

The fog is a pleasant distraction
helping me forget
aided by sitcom-fuelled dream dialogue
and closed curtains
to help keep out the cold

The moments in which I make plans
are more fleeting
than the ones that actually happen
so I don’t plan much anymore

Something always ruins them anyway

In the darkness
they’re indistinguishable
from fleeting wishes and what-ifs—
and about as useful

That’s why I have to
keep the curtains drawn—
if I can distinguish
one thing from the other
I’ll have to do something about it

Then I’ve really got problems

For now
I check the clock
whenever I wake up

(2 December 2018)

I have books available. Links to more information here. 

Or, if you like, you can use PayPal to donate a buck (or whatever amount you’d like) to help support my efforts by clicking on the button below:

Donate with PayPal