I sit here,
still and quiet,
fighting the need to pee.
manners aren't my strong point.
There is a real pain in my chest,
slightly to the left.
And my ear is hair-pullingly itchy.
I wonder if there are ants in there.
This isn't poetry,
this vague, rambling flow of
words. Black on white.
But I needed to write,
so I caress keys with my fingers
and ponder normality,
We are all so similar.