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.
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