Boxes
I am exhausted out of my skin.
The trains are packed with sardine-people who have lost their colours to the dusty metal, dusty clanking tracks.
My blue glasses draw attention, everyone who walks past me looks at my face. I'm not used to this, but I have lost my beloved Ray Bans.
I slept surrounded by boxes. On Sunday night I slept perpendicular to the way I slept on Saturday night - the boxes shift, the hours shift and I tire of having no sound and words which hide behind piles of too many things, afraid and overwhelmed.
Trop de cartons, trop de choses.
Posted by sniffles at April 15, 2002 08:24 PM