Fall asleep to cop dramas

Here's another unrevised NaPoWriMo poem about trying to get out of bed in the morning.

4/14 Every Other Tuesday

And on those dull days,

those sad days, those days that start too early

with the morning rush toward nothing,

highlighting time spent wasting

time

like playing at poems or soundbites

to reaffirm that now,

that now is the prime of my life

so I should get off my ass and

build something that outlives me.

But maybe, if I lay here long enough,

let myself dissolve, decompose,

just sink away,

maybe then I could just call

this patch of ground

my own.