slow motion sonnet

The fingernail left of the sun is being slowly consumed Into hate Blinded by a sunblissed day, stay away Running, run run run run run Walk stay still Like a flower, wilting, slowly dying Not no bee, flying, starting to live Lost, she left, lost, she left I am feasting on turkey while you sit, with a singular pea Sitting still, waiting, to get an urge of inspiration Bear, she says, BEAR