fill the fridge

there are buttons at my fingertips and insects crawling up the walls. close your eyes: without trying you'll find sound in every moment. what do you hear? I'd have an answer for you if the dog would stop barking. when it does I'll listen to my breathing til it's louder than the thoughts I count for nothing. they sulk; parasites on the margins of my vision, hanging over every day like moths rotting against lightbulbs for attention. I charge the day with tasks that take me nowhere but the shops to fill the fridge. on the phone we talk about where it is I need to be because investing matters. there are emails and catalogues of ways to play the game and find the key. I know where to go and still I cower in the corner. potential taunts me like the dreams I'll never wake to see. dust collects and spiders spin homes in the crook of my neck. I am good for them, if not myself. but there are buttons and a key under the mat. tomorrow was never a choice. wake up. get moving. there's more you have to hear.