3:15.

I feel every minute pass through my body;
Every second, every millisecond, everything.
I don't know what to do, but stare at the ceiling
Until I pick up someone else's pen
And write.

It still feels like forever,
These last 15 minutes.
It feels like a never-ending sequence of more time
And more time and more time, etc.
Like it will never stop,
Like my eyes will never dry,
And like my head will fall off
And plummet to the floor
And roll down to my mother's desk
Where she'll pick it up and cry.

My hand feels every word I put down.
It's exhausting even to write,
And I pray for my thoughts to stop coming
To save my appendage.

turkey sandwich bagel tour ballroom grass water bench Kane ditching class and Ravenhill I'm rest as corny

I am.
& crazy.