descriptions

i feel like writing but i have fuck-all to say. all i can do is describe:

the walls are white and dirty and the air is cold; i crack my window

and it smells like lake michigan. the clock ticks and something burns on my lips.

have i missed something? did i miss a sense?

i fold myself into my chair and the pain in my knee is inexplicable;

it is almost amusing, distantly, to watch my body breaking down.

i gather my adjectives and i discard them, dropping like fish food.