pure exhaustion,
is the seed to reflection,
to meditation,
to boredom,
staring at a wall,
thoughts can spiral many ways.

the feeling of fear,
dread of a secret,
to be revealed,
regret of a mistake,
to come back,
and bite.

the feeling of control,
charge for your own pleasure,
my hand travels down my frame,
as i play with myself,
as i throw my head back,
in bliss.

the feeling of content,
in my space,
problems dissolve,
swirling in nothing,
with a lazy smile,
plastered on my face.

the feeling of desire,
of greed,
as i wish for more,
when i have,
more than enough.

the feeling of laziness,
an idle person,
with lists of tasks,
but frozen limbs.

times where life,
stole the best of me,
and i am left,
with nothing,
patience is all that serves,
as i wait,
for her to come back.

livia