Dichotomy

Somedays I wake up and everything feels too small. 
I lose a year of life waiting for the coffee machine.
The news grates against the inside of my skull.
The dishes insult me from the sink. 
My body is a mutiny – 
I will not walk the dog. 
I will not eat another bowl of oatmeal.
I will not sit at this desk for one more goddamn minute.
I’ve grown five sizes too big overnight 
and I want to weep at how tight my own skin feels. 

Somedays I wake up and everything feels too big. 
I watch the sun come up;
blush and plum across indigo.
A universe sprouts in the slant of light against my desk. 
My heart is a symphony – 
I am lost in my own breath.
I am lost at how little I know.
I am lost at my own finite amount of time. 
The world has become too full
and I want to rage at how insignificant I feel.

Life’s frustration and it’s fragility 
exist in one heartbeat to the next.

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