some sludge days grey my life’s lens
overwhelm and lethargy lull my motivation
Its hard to see
to see even a few hours ahead of me
And I’m numb
I left this body like a reckless driver leaves a damaged car—
Haphazardly where it no longer functions,
where its unwantedness is on full display and yet so clearly discarded, littered beside plastic water bottles tinted gray from dirt and fast food bags that once flew from a car window at 75 miles an hour.
But the body resurrects herself
Not biblically, or with much fortitude,
just enough to slouch in classroom chairs and see through heavy eyelids.
Im this zombie among the living,
making rooms haunted houses and hoping they dont see how my breath dims the lights.
Sometimes they do.
more often, a topic, a person, an event meets me mid-crawl, reels my bent spine from slouch to upright.
And the heavy sludge slides off.
not all but enough to see and feel.
Enough to return from undead to kinda alive.
Enough to push through.