Cabin Fever

Cabin Fever Months snowed inA man rinsing and repeatingA sweet song played overTea heated on the stove forUnkempt hair and foggy glassesAnd bastard brain bashed inHe left home fast; saysHe never recoveredWhen looking at me through a cameraI was not so sureAbout my presenceAnd what I should be trying forIt comes back to me when