Broken

Sitting in front of the computer. Glasses of water. Piling up. Half full, half filled. None of them spilled. I had to do a presentation that week. Appearing in front of the audience. Similar to sitting in front of that screen. Except they are faces, not pixels. I spilled the glass one night. It fell from desk height. I stumbled a little as well. A sound like a bell. A sound like a chime. I ignore it most of the time. A little sound. That is sharp during these sleepless nights. Eyes open. Sometimes, my hands are gripping a pencil. I should sleep. Instead, gripping. That’s what they said. Before I went to bed. A great presentation. A great imagination. That wasn’t quite me, up on that stage. That was someone more sage. That was someone who sleeps at night. Bright. Kite. Moonlight. I tried to go to sleep. Before or after. Dinner as served. A stale plate. It fell and broke. I think I might too.