the sky reaches down,
wakes me up.
I open my eyes,
drink water,
check my phone,
Instagram.
a blog is still blocked,
nothing from the job I applied to,
and I have to pee.
sitting down,
I also brush my teeth.
two birds, one bullet.
this type of deal
seals my morning.
I need coffee,
and my ankles crack
down the stairs.
I crack the blind window.
the day never belongs to me.
I water the blueberry bush
on the balcony,
write some work.
after zero-purpose Zoom meetings,
I will pay bills and pack.
flying to New York tonight
to get myself out of my silo.
different days are needed,
even if they bring morose memories.
I'll be up and at 'em,
open to change.