He sits there staring at the ceiling.

There is oh so much work to be done.

What she requested.

What he had neglected.

What sits safely out of sight.

He meant to return.

Left it ready for preparation.

It would be so easy to start again for he made it so.

But a voice speaks to him from nowhere, saying “Oh but I know you.”

Instead of returning, he will remain staring at the ceiling.

All responsibilities safely stored out of sight.

Even the ones he can see, never appear so bad.

The current condition is enough, he tells the voice in response.

It did not matter what other people said, it was good enough for him.

Yes, sometimes he roused to be productive.

But only to silence the chant for a time.

The one that pounded against the inside of his skull.

A sound that kept him awake at night.

I know you.

I know you.

I know you.