Desk

Nine to Five

I cannot take these invoices anymore.
They stack all around, closing me in.
Inter-department envelopes looming in the corner of the desk.
I simply cannot keep up.
The statements demand payment.
Due dates are my downfall.
This is not for me.
I know it sounds selfish, but haven't I done enough?
I need to provide.
I want to provide.
These invoices cloud my head until I cannot see through the ocean of white.
The adding machine is the only noise I can hear.
Papercuts littler my hands, and I wonder how much damage they can actually do.
If I bleed out on to my desk, would I be replaced before I make it down the back stairs on a gurney?
Yes.
The desk cannot be empty.