My Desk

Been sitting at this desk for so long

All the calendar dates on my phone are postponed indefinitely

My dad told me I’m staying up too late and that the clock is getting away from me

No license in my wallet quite yet, driving around to escape the house will have to wait for the time being

Seeing a new life through 16:9 in this infinite world is making my vision blurry, beyond the hours in the evening

Biting the end of my fork while eating the same food to try and feel something

My favorite meal is starting to get old, this old office chair doesn’t hit like it used to

Carpeltunnel running up my forearm is comforting, an old friend coming to visit from summers past

Hard to believe I craved the Friday night adventures in virtual worlds, it was a break from the routine

Sleeping-in

The lazy become lazier; deadlines are a thing of the past for now 

Going to sleep with no intention of waking up before noon in a few hours

My mom stopped asking how was your day early on, she was disappointed I starting working the nightshift

I used to be mad at her, but now I’m mad at myself for those countless hours wasted deep lucid dreaming

Nothing productive happens when I’m staying up that late

My blue sheets become my escape every night, the silence that moves in the dark is deafening even through the matching pillow

Projecting the Future

Won’t this be over by June?

Seeing a friend outside late into the night, fireflies dancing in front of 2000 lumens

Looking at my phone, quarter past 11 when the sun set 3 minutes ago

“On my way”,  Derek texts me a few times a week

Lying to myself instead of my parents, listening to the governor every day

Turning down his voice on the TV so I don’t hear any more bad news

Couple more weeks of patience until I see that girl that makes me go crazy

Even if we become strangers soon, it won’t phase me like it used to

Failed quarantine talking stages, late night hot pockets

Cold in the middle, broke my heart and now im left on read

Feelings I never want to confront again

This will all be over by July I’m sure of it 

Wish I never let those weeks in march go by so fast

Box

Packing up the remnants of a broken semester which crumbled at my feet

Into this cardboard box

A (usually) quiet sancuutary, my outpost for friday nights

Wings at a sports bar one month ago, I thought that would become my home

Where I used to spend weeknights balancing equations

Is a prison cell, complete with a king size bed and a record player

That skips when the needle drops too quickly

My mind races with thoughts of a different outcome spinning

Thinking of what could’ve been instead of how it is

Living in a warped timeline, going slower than these 45s

Atleast that record made it out of the box, where I find myself residing

Peace of Mind

Peace of mind is something you don’t come by very often

Finally free from a penitrary of pain with shackles on my mind

4 cylinders under the hood with my buddies in the back

Not a single call to come home with a full tank of gas

So many possibilities, need to ask navigation where to go

0-60 in three to five business days is a joke I’ll tell until it's not funny anymore

My zero skips playlist makes me feel woke since the artists know how to rhyme,

Paying for a no-ads subscription makes me mentally wealthy and financially poor

Didn’t realize a gas station would ID me for a box of donuts

Oh, he’s joking

At this late at night, it didn't take a lot to humble us