Rotting
Nothing.
I tried to grasp at the thought of wasted muscles.
I tried to stop joint damage.
Being around people, but they are rotting.
When everyone else is rotting.
And you’re just playing with your thumbs.
Trying to smooth out your thumbs.
Waiting for everyone to stop waddling around, rotting, and falling apart.
While you’re stopped.
Hush.
There’s alone.
And there’s waiting for people to stop rotting.
So I can sweep up.
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