Broken Records

Poetry

Oceans unaware, eyes tied
Seagulls faraway screeching
Waves pushed aside like blankets
Anxious routines, broken records keep on circling
Blinds closed and then opened
Feeling the air, empty handed
Phrases repeat themselves
Never been used to silence
The light is also blinding
That screen is an exception
Same programme from 7am
I’m still paying attention
Another day, it’s all the same
Prepared beds, medication ready
They shut the lights, I try to drift to sleep
Counting from a thousand to zero
Backwards in threes