yesterday I was merely running on the unhealthy habit of caffeine.
every day is so similar to the one before that my days are jumbled
mingled together like a palmful of necklaces.
all clasps and chains and charms
in a web of metal mess and constant confusion.
did I wash my hair yesterday?
when did my last period start?
how many weeks until spring's subtle entrance?
my glances at the clock are often and
come without warning but carry a sigh
a chain-linked pendant pocket watch
telling me the time of day - but is it yesterday or today?
three o'clock yesterday is the same today.
desk and pen and keyboard typing
the tap of a single letter measures the seconds
words equal minutes
and for hours, the pages churned and
stacked and staggered on my desk, tell of progress,
every day is so similar to the one before that my days are jumbled
mingled together like a palmful of necklaces.
all clasps and chains and charms
in a web of metal mess and constant confusion.
did I wash my hair yesterday?
when did my last period start?
how many weeks until spring's subtle entrance?
my glances at the clock are often and
come without warning but carry a sigh
a chain-linked pendant pocket watch
telling me the time of day - but is it yesterday or today?
three o'clock yesterday is the same today.
desk and pen and keyboard typing
the tap of a single letter measures the seconds
words equal minutes
and for hours, the pages churned and
stacked and staggered on my desk, tell of progress,
of time passing
as the necklace around my neck sways and beats against my chest
in a steady rhythm in time with the second hand
i finger a locket engraved with the words
also written in cursive next to my bed
patience
trust
forgiveness
holding all the moments I've locked
and placed in compartments
tidily and chronologically
longing
grief
anticipation
grace
it's tiny diameter is the width of my soul
but the depth
well,
that travels
much
deeper
a pendulum
of
now
and
later.
as the necklace around my neck sways and beats against my chest
in a steady rhythm in time with the second hand
i finger a locket engraved with the words
also written in cursive next to my bed
patience
trust
forgiveness
holding all the moments I've locked
and placed in compartments
tidily and chronologically
longing
grief
anticipation
grace
it's tiny diameter is the width of my soul
but the depth
well,
that travels
much
deeper
a pendulum
of
now
and
later.
But today,
i am snowed in
and i type and take breaks when i need to
stare out the window
turn on the fire
i think about the difference between yesterday and today -
i have not watched the clock today and it is nearing five.
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