My Back Hurts

by Rhys Nixon

There's a room
Full of white
And it smells
Like bleach and
Iron, I hate
This place, but
I have to
Be here or
I will regret
Not showing up.

Dust has been
Collecting on old
Papers and CD's
And paintings that
Weren't hung up.
A few pictures
Of the family.
It smells musty
And the sun
Shines beams that
Reflect on the
Dirty glass table.

My back hurts
From not standing
Straight, but it's
Hard when you
Don't feel like
Standing up anymore.
Boxes of plates,
Bags of clothes,
I strain to
Help lift them,
And it hurts.