broth
I am consumed by this song. I hear my alarm go off and I hit the snooze a few times and when I am finally ready to rise and face the day-- the melody comes to mind and I am lost. I walk blindly into the bathroom, arms stretched out at full length doing the best zombie impression I know. I step into the shower in a daze and poorly cleanse myself. Last week I forgot to turn on the water and stood under the shower head for eleven minutes, eyes glued to the fading red tiles on the wall. I brush my teeth thoroughly, counter-clockwise with medium strength, one minute. The melody continues to permeate my skull as I hop into the same pair of skinny black jeans. I need that consistency. My shoes are laid out for me and I slip into them with tentative ease. I am still humming the chorus. I am still humming the chorus. It is infectious and awful and leaves a horrible taste in my mouth but only because I know I am so close. The corks are piling up under the bed planks and at night they get together and map out devious plans to overthrow the tyrant sleeping in peace above them. I found a map of theirs last week and felt a cold breeze slide across my torso. I fear not though, for I have momentum on my side and she is one hell of a catalyst. Auto pilot or not, continue to watch out below. Rupert is ducking beneath the punches and connecting his jabs with remarkable force. The exterior tells merely what I cannot hide, and these days, I am hiding more than you know.
