Breath-holding, long to-do lists, a constantly running faucet
She does her best to always be on time, but she isn't going anywhere
It's OK as long as she completes her 30-minute workouts, and washes her hands exactly 3 times
She's become a stranger to the floating grayish, white clouds and the occasional sun which she gets glimpses of through her dark curtain
Who is she? How's she feeling? What kind of music does she like?
Chest pains, exhaustion, cracked hands
easy for her to ignore because she has to think of tomorrow's plans
The sun and the searching clouds long for her presence,
but know that they won't get the chance to enjoy it
worryingly they slowly fade into the twilight sky, waiting for the moon to start its shift.
