I sit in a dim room,
unwilling to turn on the lights,
the laptop screen lighting up my face,
simmering in melancholy,
a mood that fits me like a glove,
that — and nostalgia.
I’m cornered by the two
hovering above me.
I’m on my tiptoes,
trying to look past them,
a glimpse of teenage angst
before they’re all I see again.
I think literary,
I think intimate,
I think nothing.
So here it is,
yet another piece
completed after months
under the suffocating shadow of
banality and inadequacy.
–
I think I have one more piece brewing on a similar topic. I’ll publish it if I can complete it.
Photo by Josh Nuttall on Unsplash
Wordwhile 