Procrastination
sometimes I go to sleep
with my pillow covering my eyes
and wanting to never wake again
I lie in bed
thinking, dreaming, wishing
for the sun to disappear
so the night stays
with me, beside me
forever and ever
one more day
I have to play by the rules again
one more routine
repetition at its finest
one more performance
but I'm tired of performing
it's okay, I comfort myself
I can do one more day
but how many more days can I lie
work plagues my mind
a sickness that makes my body frail
I'm scared of succumbing to it
small moments ground me
they are reminders that life
is more than just a routine
the taste of peppermint ice cream on my tongue
the warmth from the crackling fire
the strength I draw from holding her hand
it's worth waking up
despite my fears of becoming
another gear in society's machine
the alternative is much worse
procrastination drags and drags and drags
leaving the remnants of my memories behind
so tell me honestly
does my lack of motivation define me?
is this who I am