Morning

The alarm blares,

My body aches, tightly woven from a restless dream,

The cold room taunts me.

 

I look in the mirror,

Shallow ulcers beneath my eyes.

I hesitate for a moment�"

A moment only, and then I proceed.

My fingers weary but practiced:

Button after button,

Collar enveloping my neck,

Tucking away my dancing thoughts.

Final touches on my face, matte finish,

I step away,

Seventeen minutes I have mastered.

I feel unease.

 

I stop at the door to slip on my shoes,

The musky scent of my life looms around me.

Festering:

A thin film of coffee stains my cup,

Newspapers and yesterday’s dinner

Crushed against my soles,

It feels hot, unbearably hot.

I leave.

 

The train,

Rocking from side to side

Calms me.

We sit, masked faces,

Our fate determined by the doors that open.

Rushed footsteps, eager to get in

Eager to get out.

Anticipation mixed with apathy,

Newness in the routine,

Cloud of nothing over us.

 

My stop arrives.

I stumble at the door.

But when I leave,

I exude perfection.