STEP ONE: Get the fuck out of bed.
Smooth out the creases of your outline in the dirty upholstery.
STEP TWO: Shake off the dust.
Wring out your creaky bones.
STEP THREE: Welcome the stickiness of the hardwood beneath your clammy feet.
Remember how to move your muscles
Again.
STEP FOUR: Fill the water and grounds.
Stare out the kitchen window. Forget what realm you’re in.
Feel the weight of existence pulling your shoulders down.
Gravity is a greedy, bloodthirsty bitch.
And your posture fucking sucks.
STEP FIVE: Pour the coffee in a mug.
STEP SIX: For a minute, the familiar aroma will bring you back to reality.
For a minute,
You’ll feel kind of O.K.
STEP SEVEN: Take a sip and burn your tongue.
Whatever.
You don’t need to taste the bland world.
At least you can still feel something.
STEP EIGHT: Get back in bed.
Skip work.
Don’t shower. Repeat.
Sometimes it just doesn’t have a happy ending.
Sera's Poetry 