9-17-16 Unknown

 •unknown• 

I sit on this bench on the corner of a busy street 

Watching the stone faces pass me by 

Busy eyes 

Busy feet 

Busy bodies blindly walking the dark streets 

And I just sit here alone on this bench 

Among these busy organ cases

Wondering why I can't get up 

Watching others live their lives as they should 

The future in the palm of their hands 

And mine so far into the horizon that it's already sunk into the deep ocean waves 

I should get up and join them 

Phone buzzing with business calls 

Pushing a stroller 

Driving to a dinner party 

Fumbling around in my purse to find my wallet 

Meeting new people 

But I'm not 

I'm just sitting alone on this bench on the corner of a busy street 

Watching the busy bodies 

Busy eyes 

Busy feet 

Busy minds 

But mine is empty 

I'm glued to this bench 

Continuing to cross and uncross my legs 

Twiddle my fingers 

Waiting patiently for my mind to say 

Get up

It's a new day 

Then why is my mind still blank?

Why are my legs so stubborn?

Maybe I don't want to be a busy body 

Busy fingers 

Busy eyes 

Busy lives 

I'm drawing a blank 

Even now as I write this on this bench on the corner of a busy street 

I fumble and flinch 

Writing 

Get up

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