Black coffee and a dripping tap, no sympathy
for myself for none is needed, tape covers
the gaps in the windows and mutes the traffic
to a distant swish. The guts of the fridge rattle
and judder and the bedding that I slept on
has been folded and shoved back under
the sofa. I am always the first to rise
but never with some big plan for the rest
of the day, instead I succumb to the something-
rather-than-nothing-ness of the moment
which often trails a little wisp of gratitude.
Odds are I’ve got less time left than I spent
but there was nowhere to bank those hours
anyway. A second alarm goes off meaning
it’s time to wake my eldest. This is the life
I chose and the gradient I lean into.
The coffee swishes, lukewarm in the cup
as I knock back my dark, bitter medicine.
🌿
I think that the final line might be a bit of a false tail, a bit too neat and familiar and probably a cliche. I might change it but keep the title as it is.