Shut Down

I face the computer
It faces me
I stare into its depths
It stares back
We are at an impasse
A storm is brewing
Not quite a war
Yet
But something quietly
Unpleasant
Like the smell
Of the living decay
Of a person who has
Been staring at the computer
For days on end
Never moving
Slower than sloth
Mold growing
Between the toes
But I can't give up
Not yet
The computer is
Bound to blink
First.