m o r n i n g s t a r
i toss and turn from a fitful sleep
and snores coming from the other side of the bed
i lay thinking of dreams and sleep and things i need to do
and haven't done.
things i've said and didn't say and things i should've said
and things i regret i said.
and did.
regret is what causes gnashing of teeth.
anxiety and sorrow and guilt all rolled into one,
whether it be eating a sweet that will make your tummy ache
or something worse like-
an attitude that makes your heart bitter
or worse;
your pathetic apathy that comes into full view in the night,
like marley's ghost.
i was going to pray today.
i was going to study today.
i was going to call today.
i was going to stop that today.
the anguish, like a laurel wreath, surrounds my mind
my chest, my hands and feet,
tightening with the ever present grip of the days' deceiving pride.
i attempt in this dark smothering solitude,
between the sounds of the old refrigerator humming
and the human steamship next to me,
to repent.
a song comes into my mind over and over and over again. . .
is it jumping jack flash?!
i can't take it anymore!
i groan and throw back the covers of safety and warmth
that tangle me,
and i look out into the cold. black. sky.
and there you are.
in all your innocence and purity,
shining with hope
and mercy for
a brand new day-
and another try.