Monday morning gloom expresses
its chilling breath
onto my frozen numb skin.
Monday morning shot
of hot caffeine would not melt the frozen sun
hiding in the grey horizon.
Monday morning blur
from the piercing shards
of vague reality, entering–failing–the dense cranium.

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(a new one I rebuild inside my head.)

A     g    h     a     s     t     l     y    voice whisper…

I opened my eyes and my world drops dead.
(reality’s rebuilt outside my head.)

Monday morning
stabbed me with a flickering smile
and broken stares
made of guilt and humiliation.