The sunshine is a bully
You’re wasting your life, it whispers, draped over my windowsill.
The anxiety that has settled, resting in a puddle below my belly button, swirls up like the oat milk in my morning coffee pale as my legs, resting here inside.
I’m tired, I whisper in response because I am. I feel worn down, as if I’ve been sprinting for weeks and my body is finally fighting back.
You’ll regret it, the light taunts. And I know that’s a broader statement than it seems.
To stay inside on a day like today, alone. To read in quiet rather than exploring and mingling. What am I giving up by choosing to rest?
There’s a lyric that plays through my brain:
“death inspires me like a dog
inspires a rabbit”
Go outside, it taunts, before you miss it
I won’t be here forever
And neither will you
abstract relations vi 