I Inhale taking in my surroundings
There’s a thick cloud of smoke
Circling above me
My stomach’s talking
I can hear the rumblings
I live simply I don’t need much to survive
There’s plenty to ignite my senses
The city and I are acquaintances
Similarly invested
Vicariously restless
Something about the noises
The neighbors make
The clatter and clank
Keep me up
It provokes a sensation
A reminder that my loneliness
Hasn’t been wasted
I’m entertained by the mundane
Always listening to strange dialogue
Awake in my queen sized bed
Eager to sleep
There’s so much drama in this complex
Like me
It comes alive in the nighttime
I often sit in the leather chair
I claimed from Goodwill
Who knew it’d be where I gathered ideas
Talking with myself
Forgetting what’s real
No place to escape the feeling I feel
This dreaded intellectual appeal
The only small talk I make
Is in front of the mirror
Practicing mantras before I derail
I sit dissecting the comments
Here alone
Passing judgement
Isn’t it ironic
Written By: Desi Sevena