To Stave the Ventricles of The Heart
I sat and looked out the window at the snow drifting. The snow fell so slowly, quietly, like the sound of time passing. I sat, amazed and absorbed, watching something happen.

I wake up and the snow makes the light fill my room with light that is less blue and more pure than it would be on warmer days. I lie in bed, aware of only this.

I pee quickly as if I have somewhere I desperately want to be. Afterward, I climb onto the couch and stare blankly at my desktop background. This fills the hour: peeing and blank staring.

I haven't showered in days. I pick the dandruff out from under my fingernails. It makes it so I can't even enjoy plunging my face into my pillows. I brushed my teeth because I couldn't stand the taste of scum on my teeth anymore.

At night, I sit on my bed, among the unmade blankets. I feel discontent. I want to talk to someone. I wish I were somewhere. I wonder how anyone could go to sleep like this.

I wander through the house without my glasses. It feels comfortable, although everything is blurry. I know the last step of the stairs. I get myself a cup of water and I ignore the brown ring of coffee stain. I don't think it matters. I drink deeply for this is the first water I've had all day. I drink deeply for reason I don't quite understand. Am I sane?

I am in love with a girl. I go to sleep, clutching a dream of her.