Rise before the sun
to experience relief
from the stifling air
and heavy atmosphere
people’s anticipated month
always brings.
Feel it sap away as the
day progresses,
draining all motivation
when you need it most.
23:222
Bobbing closer from the ceiling,
erratic flight
announcing its presence
from the corner of your eye.
Intruder, pursuer,
but fear of its disappearance
forces braveness and action,
clutching the broom
and preparing for battle.
23:221
Resentment at the extra,
even when it’s needed,
revenge by producing
even more
so the whole world
will drown
and you can laugh
as your breath
is choked away.
23:220
Switch the settings
for the perfect result,
but don’t mix them up
or one will be too raw,
unready,
the other hardened
and unable to soften again.
23:219
Basic or extra,
what hours will fill my days
what plans can I make
what life may I live.
Why won’t you answer?
Why is the schedule
something I can’t decide.
23:218
Waiting for six months
in the future,
where two possible choices
await,
hopefully both,
but there’s no choice
except to pursue each,
and hope capturing one
won’t ruin the other.
23:217
Poke the centre of your spine
from behind
so the jolt
runs through you
with shock and betrayal,
your whole body
refusing to relax,
trust,
being near them again.
23:216
Prepare your body
for the hope of being invaded,
transformed for another,
and see if there’s anything left
of who you are
once they decide to leave.
23:215
Work us to exhaustion
and feign shock
when we all collapse
one-by-one,
the few remaining
piled on with more responsibilities
until they bury us
so deep
no one remembers
we were ever human.
22:214
The mist of morning,
so early most people miss it.
Is that the intention?
The preference?
Or does it desperately cling
in the air,
to windows,
plants,
living and dead things
so that someone,
anyone,
will witness it
before the morning warmth
dissipates its existence.
Scribbled Thoughts 