Lazy Days

Boredom
sapping my strength
my mood painted in grays
like the autumn sky I’m watching
outside...

A sigh
freed from my lips
seems louder than a scream
as it ripples across the room
and then...

Silence
stillness returns
and the chill comes seeping
bleeding off the hues once again
to gray...

Another one of those lazy days.




I've commented in the past that I seem to do better with my writing when I'm depressed, drunk or upset. I think it's something to do with tapping into the more primal portions of my emotions.

Or maybe it's just boredom. I haven't the foggiest...