Professional Stayer

​I am so replaceable

It is actually a crime.

I notice a dust mote and 

I overthink it for a time.

I wait for old friends 

while they are out having fun

Staring at the void

like a half baked bun.

I have lost my selfworth 

in a pile of worn socks,

While my real issue is 

A spine that lacks.

Calm after a restless day

A beautiful ambiguity: 

Is the sky painting the tree pink, 

or is the tree staining the night? 

Either way, the world is whispering 

'be still' after a day of noise