I am dissatisfied
with the feeling of my days.
They feel like dirty sheets
and sweat filmed afternoons.
They feel like underachievement
and over-consumption.
These days
have the feel of a depth-less sky:
grey
grey
grey.
I’m feeling stale
on the inside,
like my brain is building up a film
from the lackluster nights
and the too warm headaches.
I am uncomfortably lazy.
Olympic Break
