Weekdays
There’s little alarm
Brought on by
my alarm
Spitting its scream at 6:15.
For a moment I was free
From the trouble that is me
Or is it the work that is never truly done?
Nowadays it’s hard to tell.
I should prepare for the day
And break the cycle of dismay
Get ready for what needs to be done,
But I did my time
Last night until 1:09
So I deserve ten more minutes of ignorant bliss.
But the textbook by my head
And the notebooks on my bed
Remind me of what more I should’ve done
An A on a test
Is worth one less hour of rest
But my brain had decayed to an catatonic state
6:45 and I’m already behind
Just with my first action of the day
I break out of bed
Pull a shirt over my head
Try and fail to hide the circles beneath my eyes
I need to succeed
So I answer my own pleas
For rest with empty replies
“Work harder, plan more,
Get it done and just ignore
That feeling of needing to stop
For a few minutes
To breathe
And just finally
Think of nothing.”
Now it’s 7:15
I take my advil with caffeine
Leave the house
And do it all over again.