Tuesday, March 10, 2009
I Think I'll Hide Today
I work, then stare, then shuffle my papers, and minutes are sporadically sucked into black holes, lost like the hour taken back in Savings. In my stomach there is a little bullet of stale mourning. My chest feels the panic of urgent thirst and no access to water. The water is in my head where it garbles and slows thought. Nature's instinct tells me to draw the shades and hole up in the darkest corner of my home, like an unwell creature who cannot function or defend.