the sound of beating wings

nausea struggles to consume the slight normalcy that i feel as per this moment. i'll sit here, in this dark room, grasping for my water bottle and existing through the light of this screen. contemplating the light that it must be outside, yet my curtains are shut. all i can see are weak outlines of daylight fighting to enter my room, but all light is refrained. nauseous. nothing awaits on the other side of the door that could possibly tempt me from this haven, i think i'll sit here and listen to the carefree nature that is jeniferever, that in itself can replace nature for this afternoon. nausea is not my friend.