I’m narrowly meeting deadlines 

That are years earlier than they should be,

Suddenly overwhelmed by things I signed myself up for,

Wanting to drop everything at once.

The ever-growing stack of work

Is already twice my size,

Crushing my arms, making my knees buckle.

First it crumbled the desk I left it on for months,

The glass snapped in half and-

shattered.

“I can do it later—”

It’s later, I can’t.

I have the time, I have the energy, 

I lack the will, I lack the mindset

That came to me so easily- 

months ago.

It disappeared, turned into thin air,

Or maybe- into a cloud.

Because then,

I can wait until it rains,

To drink the motivation back into my body,

But what if-

What if it comes down as hail—hard spheres, hard blocks,

Bruising my skin, blistering my palms,

As I try to catch it, 

Desperate to find it once more.

The pile gets in the way, 

Keeps growing taller,

Until it’s in the clouds,

Until the rain can’t get to me anymore, 

Blocked by the tower of work.

I’m constantly waiting—for more, or for it to end

I can’t do anything else.