Daily + Haiku 7

It's getting scary. The pressure of time begins to creep down. Is it worse that I know how long I have? The calendar on my wall is sad right now. Empty. And the sheets in my planner are sad right now. Full. I want things to work so, so bad. I need to work again, soon. Now is not the time for fun. But then when do I get to play, in this body and as the person I am right now, ever again? The work will get done. Soon. But will it be good enough?

 

I FEEL IT COMING.
PRAIRE STORM, DUSTBOWL SIREN.
DO I RUN OR STAY?