Lyric

Seven percent

Face down

By the bed

The cable showed

Under the table

The outlet sat

Close enough

I saw it

And stayed still

My thumb checked once

Then gave up

The screen waited

With one message

No hard words

No big demand

Just a cord

Near the floor

I knew the answer

That made it worse

The phone needed power

I needed movement

The cable was there

The outlet was close

The phone kept asking

I gave it nothing

Too Tired to Plug It In

Tomorrow had alarms

Inside the glass

A map

For the train

A card

For the gate

Two unread messages

One work reminder

Everything useful

Sat in reach

Then slipped away

With four percent left

I knew the problem

I knew the fix

Still the cord

Stayed on the floor

Seven percent

Still enough

Six percent

Still fixable

Five percent

I knew better

Four percent

Hand still down

Three percent

Cable still close

Two percent

Screen going low

One percent

Small and honest

Then nothing changed

Except the phone

The cable was there

The outlet was close

The phone kept asking

I gave it nothing

Too Tired to Plug It In

I hated

How small it was

One simple thing

Became too much

No heavy lift

No real repair

Just plastic

Metal

Floor

I crossed streets

I answered people

I carried bags

I paid for dinner

Then one cord

Asked for my hand

And found the limit

Before I did

The cable goes in

The phone stays ready

The alarm works

The morning has a chance

I knew each step

Too clearly

That was part

Of the weight

Knowing what to do

Is not doing it

Knowing the fix

Does not move the hand

The screen went black

Without ceremony

No final warning

No sharp event

Just my face

Gone from the glass

And my hand

Empty beside it

I touched the cord

Afterward

Not to fix it

Just to measure

How close it was

The cable was there

The outlet was close

The phone kept asking

I gave it nothing

Too Tired to Plug It In

Too tired

For one cable

Too tired

For one task

The phone stayed blank

The cord stayed bent

The alarm stayed inside

The shut glass

I turned over

And left it there

Not by choice

Not by plan

Just before action