Bein Invisible

In my tiny room, in blue light, I sit
Gathered and at peace
Awaiting the hours of my future
Tomorrow and the day after
November & December
June & July,

Holding a shaky pen
Between my index finger and my thumb
Wanting to write,
But not sure about what
Because, there is so much
And simultaneously there is, nothing at all

Observing my life
Meander from one mundane punctuation
To the next,
How much more common can I get
Now that I am already invisible
What else is still left to be

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