Sitting slumped over
And the pressure's on my tail bone
To get out of this funk.

17 minutes left.

So I write here to escape
From what I feel
And the flashes of 23.

16 minutes left.

The rage I have
Towards the usual
Scares me with its intensity.

15 minutes left.

Avoid her when she wants to talk
She makes you recognize
Your own helplessness.

14 minutes left.

The mornings are the hardest:
Waking up alone
Ignoring the waves of nausea.

13 minutes left.

All I have to do
Is lock up and go home.
My routine that makes me crazy
Is beginning to erode my patience.

12 mintues left...
Before it's time to go.

02/08/2004

Author's Note: Random collection of thoughts gathered from the last 10 days.

Posted on 02/09/2004
Copyright © 2025 Madeline Pestolesi