a new weak

the sun squints through
the broken blinds
stabbing angrily into the dark

my body, a mass of bruises
convulses erratically
in a dereliction of hope

the city is awake
a furious cacophony
aflame with benevolent light

i am not prepared
for this repetition of sorrows
as a new week weakly ignites

yearning for sleep, i sit
murmuring my loving intentions
into the maelstrom

no coffee to contemplate
a lonely fool perches
ill prepared for fresh disaster

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