Sitting on the couch,
trying to be unproductive,
with my shirt tucked in
for no real reason.
I believe in ghosts,
but I've never seen one,
and I wonder if
I will haunt this place.
Pork belly, basketball,
a zombie show on HBO,
ignoring poetry and work,
for self care.
From the podcast
to the home projects,
it never ends
and then add never-ending laundry.
There are so many moving parts
of life—both big and little—
but the only thing I need
right now is nothing.
We all have moments
where our souls need space,
just to trace ourselves back
to what keeps us going.