FEVERISH DREAMS WITH OBLIGATIONS

In and out of feverish dreams.

Waking up sweating.

Sitting up and putting my head in my hands.

Filled with anxiety.

The room is lucid.

And yet I know what I must do,

what has been bothering me and bothers me still.

Well, there are more things to do...

but they are fish compared to the killer whale.

And as I see that the sun deteriorates

if it doesn't end the day,

I know I must let the sun set.

And so I must be returned

to the darkness from which I came.

The sun rose,

the sun is setting,

and so I cast down my eyes...

and await my darkness to come.

I was going to write you a poem right now

but I guess I won't...

this isn't the way I anticipated it-

my thoughts lead to my feeling hurt

vand independently lonely.

Not that those are bad things,

what is, I should be used to them by now but I'm not.