The sink is filled with dishes
You haven’t used
There’s very little food in the fridge
And it’s too hot to cook
The sink and the tub are covered
With things you don’t use
The bedroom is littered with clothes
And junk that you don’t own
The only time you have alone
Is when you’re on the toilet
You have to leave the house
To get away from the noise
Crashing at a friend’s house
Means sleeping on a couch
Like you have for two months
No time to relax, no time for fun
But it won’t last forever
From the poetry collection Cats, Coffee, Catharsis.
James Pack 