I wake up every morning wondering how I'm not dead yet

from heartbreak to booze,
COVID to clumsiness,
2 stabbings and general bad luck,
it's a wonder, indeed...

Delightfully aware
of my own insignificance,
I shrug when my eyes open,
as if slightly surprised.

I brush my teeth,
thank Hashem, I guess,
and feel my fangs
smile white in reflection.

I put on pants,
make coffee,
do a little dance,
genuinely happy to be breathing.

Because it's not guaranteed,
and in my case,
it is not really expected,
so each living morning is a good thing. 

Yay, I say, to each day,
and then I am usually reminded
why death is definitely easier, 
because life is hard, even if it is sometimes fun.