Anxious disarray alludes to the beckoning of surprise as
I was caught sleeping deep into slumber and in bed
Before 3am.
A disapparent reality I don’t often find.
Working round the clock and I oft go past 24 just to make the day seem longer with 3 wake-ups
Just to function a little more.
And hope the coffee isn’t watered down every time
I tamp my fingers on the hot glass bask
And wonder if there’s any creamer and my hidden stashes
Of cold Brew don’t leave me aching at another
Sight just to wonder where the traveler has been dropping their
Stains of honeydrops and encouragement to flow with a life
Where there is no schedule.
I’m not forced to make an appearance
And somehow not leaving the house on a reputable demand of forage and supplies
Feels like some understanding – that my parents know I’m busy.
There’s a lot of respect in that.
petrichor - archive 