i am taking back my day by morning.
i want to see people, hear people, smell the coffee being brewed. i don’t wish to interact.
i walk with no purpose, undazed, lost in the agredious hour of cold. i am a victor of escaping my canopy - my bedsheets, my boredom. the internet awaits me. my mind humbles me.
i have to work today even though i don’t want to. i long for my journal and a cold covered novel. i think of kafka, i dream of bukowski. i scrub the shower, i bask in a pastry, i weep with dried lips.
i am vigilent. i hear the crack of ice under my feet. i push my brown boots forward. i feel my gloves bundled in my pocket begging to be used. my hands are maroon and moist. my bed is made, hospital corners tucked, back in my abode. i jangle my keys between my fingers then sit mindlessly. lingering for tomorrow already.
