Strange Resonance

Honest,

I don’t know what day it is

or if I am happy

or if that is even

real.

*

And there are

certainly stacks of dishes older

than my newest

hyper-fixation

in the sink.

*

Most often,

I don’t recognize my reflection

in the phone’s blackened

screen since it is

shattered.

*

And it doesn’t

matter what clothes I wear

because they’ll be dusty

by the end of the

evening.

*

I truly

know nothing about money,

and it shows like light shining

through the crumbling

wall outside.

*

And I burnt

my tortilla just as this desert

ruined the enjoyment

of summer picnics

and fresh air.

*

Tomorrow

feels worse or the worst no

matter how determined I

am to try

harder.

*

And my car

is smoking as if the start

of a quarter-aged rebellion

that inevitably ends

in shame.

*

Hate is

a strong word, but I despise this

year of mindless struggle,

a cruel and unusual

trap.

*

And the flies

never rest their occupation, so I

have grown familiar

with their

music.

*

Honest,

I don't know what time it is,

if I am too early or too late,

but it circulates a strange

resonance.

***

Hello, wanderer.

Thanks for visiting. This is poem is for the I Didn’t Say That Out Loud challenge.

We often struggle together, and we don't always have to do it in silence. Hopefully this poem helps you feel a little more understood.

xoxo, for now,

-your friend, stalling chores