“Critter Lethargy”

I feel like a bug in my all-white sheets,

Critters under my skin, a buzz alight on my cheeks.

I would be a stunning beekeeper, I think, 

Before the thought slips away from memory.

I wish I had meaningful little tasks to do.

Rub my hands mischievously over food, or at least 

fly drunk on rotten fruit.

Instead I lie here,

Unhelpfully,

A non-human soul trapped in lethargy.

This bed is a dust-covered leaf

And I will die paralyzed, until there is somewhere important I have to be.

Probably.