My Messy bedside table. Each item a story, where excitement has withered away. Lack of motivation exposed within the mess All thrown to the side, Care-less The crunch of tissues The pile built, during a night alone. Memories that lived saturated in the tears, Now disgustingly desiccated in unholy texture. Melted candle wax, aesthetic of flow forgotten, – static Listening as I feel the tears flow down my neck. Early twenties spent with lack of desire. Masquerading laziness, Every forced move creates exhaustion, yet I cannot sleep? Saying in every way I couldn’t care When all I want to do is care and create
