Pointless

Pixabay, Creative Commons

It took me
37 minutes
2 hours
and 4 days

to muster the motivation
to rein in the strength
to dodge my chair (a comfortable snare)
and care
(enough)
to try
to try
to organize
the space in which I waste my life.

I let a tune fill the room
and pick at piles
like healing wounds.

I’m fighting this fight.
Tonight is my night.
I’m gathering dishes and shifting my light
to seize

a piece of sandpaper.
And
leave
an

unforgivable

scratch
on my desk’s face.

Pick up the pieces?
I’ll let them lay.
It’s been months and months,
what’s another day.