A little bit short

The only way I used to know how to write was to rhyme. It used to come so naturally to me. I guess it still would, but my mind is being suffocated. If it could get some air, maybe it would spit something out.

I'm drowning in my daily duties. A bed I have made for myself.
I just need to change the sheets.

I should put a sign outside:
"Advisory words required."

For now, I'm done. In more ways than one.


The little boy told me to hold on tight. But to what, he did not say.



Recovery