The Loathing Of A Monday

There is pain in us all, feel it, express it, grow from it
A Man's Traveled Heart
The Loathing Of A Monday

Its Monday, I pull my sheets from my body with lethargic disappointment. My eyes gradually sinking to the floor to see the hurdled mess I must overcome. My throat dry, my mind in a groggy haze of sleep. And as I slide my feet to the floor the cool care nibbles at my skin.

I express my discomfort of the morning with a sigh of resentment. Pressing myself off my bed I stand with a slight slouch of the back. I start to walk, and as I walk I let my eyes tirelessly follow the smudges and scrapes that flourish the wooden floor.

It is still somewhat dark in the house. I mind it not as it keeps me in a state of dreamlike existence. As if I have yet to face the reality that is today. But as I enter the bathroom, I am forced to light the torch, instantly I regret its intense glow. Flickering shadows of my tired frame, my silhouette looking of a ghastly ghoul.

After resisting the aggravation of the light, I let my cowardly eyes adsorb the vile luminous flame. And now, I stand before my reflection. My hair, looking as if I am but a man of destitute, one whom is found drunk and passed out at the foot of ditch.

My eyes lined in black sacks of despair. And in my state of  this loathing awakening, I turn the faucet to my sink. I stare with lonely eyes into my reflection and release a breath of distaste. And I begin to  think how plain my life has become. Rising like the sun, only to come home to the moon. Never seeing even the slightest horizon crest the mountains.

I am trapped, in this body of terrible and doomed habits. Good am I, at the twiddling of my thumbs. Approaching each evening with a gasp of relief as I am relieved of my working duties. Constantly covered in the stains of my labor. My mind dripped in saline of limbo, I am a living dejavu.

 And as these thoughts coat my morning with foul breath. I brush my teeth, foaming at the mouth I growl. A slight laugh exits my seething mouth. And for a moment, I am happy, I am over joyed in the expression of myself.

But quickly, does reality press its hand down upon me. Reminding me of what lies ahead of me. And quickly does the melancholy settle upon my chest. And once again, do I find my lips numb upon explanation.
----
Thank you for reading, do you find yourself struggling in the wake of Monday?

 If you wish for more, please pick up a copy of A Man's Traveled Heart
You can also find more on, Twitter, Facebook, and YouTube
Location: Everett, WA, USA

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A Summer Bird's Winter Perch

Image
A Summer Bird's Winter Perch   I watch this lonely bird chirp upon a slopping branch. Its feet wrapped firmly around the thin finger of bark. As I watch, I commiserate its position. Sitting there, alone, singing with no others to listen. Speaking I assume, to itself.   Maybe contemplating its unfortunate circumstance. For the rest had already left for the winter. If I am not mistaken it was only a few days ago that I watched a flurry of birds dart by. Their wings flapping against the brisk wind collectively. Not a single one appeared worried of their journey.   Their shadows crawled quickly across the empty streets during a fall evening. I watched them pass by like a feather floating down stream. I couldn't help but wonder, how long must they fly? What winds must they fight, what elements must they battle against? All must be against them as is every moment in time is against us all?   Yet they fly forth to the heat of earth. Dependent upon their survival but, what
Read more
Image
  Step Out! Out, Out from the gloom, The obscure breath of doubt Take stone, break thy yoke, Let trouble fall, let shoulders be lifted, Flow, to the heavens Be but strain no more, Open wide, thy mouth, Let prayer fill thy tongue Be parched no more. Stillness in heart  Though seas roar like lions, And beast snarl among mist, Step,  Out! To mercy of life, Ease, be reborn. Let no shackle of past Be meaning for tear Take hammer,  Fracture the cumbersome Be feet of swift Fill your days with strides, Though dunes widen And heat scorches thy soles. Out, Step out from thy fear, There is another to call To breach, To reach your heart  Though thee be of man, Let not thy eyes of flesh Be the dealings of truth, Wander, In aspect to be whole Be not the coward hidden in cave, A creature curled  Like frightened doe, For he walks beside thee, Like king among his men, A sword of greatness Sways from his belt, Ready, To swing against thy enemies, A presence more bold  Than all the stars of a pitch sky.
Read more