nothing to fill the space

When I am bored, I look out the window. 
I tangle with my hair, 
Staring into space, 
Watching the bubbles of my eye 
Float and pop above in the air.

Smoking incessantly, 
Coughing later, 
Puff into space, 
Everything in slow motion, 
My mind is just dead.

Where is the excitement? 
Not at the fair, or the pool. 
Write into space. 
That’s just busyness and buying time. 
The computer gets its fill.

I can’t keep my mind going 
On any one subject, on anyone. 
No obsession anymore, nothing, 
Nothing to fill the space, 
To tantalize the senses, 
Not anymore.

I miss the mad dash, 
The race of ideas. 
Even a little torment seems ok. 
But flirting with danger, 
I was told, it was called.

Nothing to tantalize the senses, 
Not anymore. 
Nothing to fill the space.


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