When the keyboard is dusty it’s because
I’ve sank into myself and
can’t find my way out
so I walk around like that
inside out exposing my seams
forgetting to slip on a mask.
People tell me I don't look okay
unshowered unshaven unrested
climbing from bed
as the sun is going down
they say I don't look okay
because I'm not
because my mind has been held prisoner
by the laziness of my phalanges
caged inside me forced to function
in the duality
or not
most often not.
As long as I keep tapping away
I will look okay
so people will leave me alone
my mind will be free to drift
from its synapses to my fingertips
webbing between my words
and life will be as I deserve
no showers no razors no rest
freedom from those
that think they know best
a cluttered mind meeting
an empty page
hoping that this too
isn’t just a stage.
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