the usual

An ordinary morning, like every other, the usual
        frigid floorboards underfoot
        aching darkness crowding at the window
        apathy swelling just below my heart

An ordinary afternoon, like yesterday’s, the usual
        angry faces full of juvenile hurt
        crowded hallways; voices mouthing empty words
        pangs of failure and regret

An ordinary evening, like the one before it, the usual
        heavy footsteps…the sag in my shoulders
        tongue that cleaves to my mouth
        harrowed exhaustion

An ordinary night, like all others past, the usual
        insomnia and childhood fears
        dreams—anxious, lonely, barely remembered—
        as if they never were


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