I'd always been indecisive,
so when I asked you to conduct the day,
your mind ridiculed mine.
I stumbled upon verbs, trying out
each one to show you I could be
energetic, willing, anything
but the listless that consumed me.
"It's too hot to use the oven,
It's too hot to chase the dragonflies,
It's too hot to use our imagination,
It's too hot to make believe..."
Without your support, I tucked clay
words into my ribs and decided
to let the day run without me.
I tightly shut one eye, opened it,
and no longer saw your outline against
the stone wall.
I had been outside for hours,
shoulders slouched, thoughts
decaying from the idea that
someone would pick me up and
talk me out of this reclusiveness,
never realizing I fought against
the weather in an attempt to remain
