Good Morning, Again

i wake up feeling heavy, stuck in the mud of self-pity. some weight is lifted as i sip the day's first pot of coffee, which brews in my stomach acid. as i exhale an ambitious aroma, the metallic remnants of yesterday's regret allow me to briefly forget my karmic debt. wet with anticipation, my tongue craves conversation, but i plug that yearning with a cigarette to help me focus on the importance of today. as a hard pull coats my throat with thick tobacco resin, a thought gets caught in a filter that pauses diseased impulses, so they can be reconsidered before compulsion becomes action. satisfaction is not guaranteed, i don't have to feed my consistent need for change or try to rearrange feelings for the sake of filling a void, sure, i might get annoyed and try to avoid some sad ones, but they'll pass.