I'm getting what I deserve.
Sky and buildings blur.
World the same old cemetery.
I've wrapped myself in fake fur,
Beast Games on tv.
The day doesn't jostle me anymore,
I swerve gracelessly,
mind inert,
voice a flat-lined melody,
hand on a nondescript cup of tea.
I'm a sofa whore:
limbs melded with upholstery.
I should cry out. Beg for a cure,
but I'm comfy
lounging in the in-between,
life on pause,
applauding something more exciting on the screen.
Cover Art: Specimen of a Portrait, 1878. James Tissot (French, 1836–1902)





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