I have been eating
little
and sleeping
less
outside
the temperature reads
-5 degrees
the sky is the same color as the ground:
ugly
and as I continue to sell
my hours
my days
the aggregate of my
life
to the highest bidder
I know have become complicit
in this farce they call
reality
I know
this is not living
this is merely
existing
and as I crane my neck
toward a sheet of clouds
I wonder
when will my courage
come back
to me