Tangled leads and broken strings, just excuses made for a lack of writings. Utensils used have gone missing. Pens and pencils, our only findings. They say "break a leg", but these days we're stuck breaking bread, Breaking Bad, getting baked in bed, avoiding our mistakes instead. Waste our time away procrastinating. Days in bed spent waiting for an open door because I've closed more than I ever have before. Going nowhere, showing no care for how I'll get there. And, so, I grew an apple tree in the middle of my living room. It's roots stuck in concrete, but its flowers will still bloom. An apple a day keep the demons at bay. These Winter months grew colder by the day. But, it's dying and it will be gone soon. I'm trying to avoid the monsoon. Time wasting, I'm failing. The roof of my head is caving in over my head I'm flailing my arms as said are waving. For the tide is so frustrating, preventing me from escaping and my back is aching and I'm drowning as I'm waiting for the chance a wave may bring me safe to shore. No remorse, hard work is its own reward but I expect full payment, of course. I take what I can afford, cause I get bored, I can't handle being ignored, it shows my floors, glass windows and wooden doors. Apple falls and plants the seed. By our feet sprouts the sapling. Loss of Autumn but the joy of Spring as the tree begins blossoming. I know that it rains before it snows, and I know that the sun is sure to show. And, so, I grew an apple tree in the middle of my living room. It consumes all of me but it fills this house with gloom. I'm dying and I will be gone soon.