This Bites

the girl sits propped over her barren desk she had invited flowers but death halted their arrival and because she kept asking father time the time he summoned an hour to accompany each minute she cursed pens on her desk thinking their non-use caused stagnation not so. They did glide across paper making grand statements from time to time but mostly they clamored for a zesty life. she desired busy-ness. the busy-ness you get from pouring hot buttered soul into life instead she was being drained of vitality attached like adhesive to her chair. some love the comfort of silent companions a season for these is fine but she had outgrown purpose-less living being bored is a life that bites.