scarlet bedsheets and glazed eyes (I)

recurrence, repetition. permanence.

i’ll wake up to sunlight searing my skin.

i’ll toss over the lipstick stain covered pillow

i’ve been sleeping on for several months.

it’s filthy, fabric stripping away.

in desperate need of change.

and so am i. 

i’ll get up and make myself coffee

wondering how much longer i can continue

existing through the same day over again

as i stare into the dark murky water

swirling in a dusty blue mug below me. 

it's cracked, chipped at the rim.

spilling its contents out steadily.

and so is my heart. 

i’ll rest my head down on the countertop

watching pitifully when teardrops break

the now rippling black surface of water.