I am the crease in the sheet that you straighten before sleep.
The sore behind your bottom lip
The broken chip left in the dip.
The spider too high on the wall
The morning-after desperate call.

I’m the caffeine habit you can’t kick
The little itch that makes you tick,
I’m the light left on
The milk left out
The constant drip from the sink’s spout.

I am the failure by one point
The click you hear when you straighten your joints,
The hair that grows in all the wrong places
The nasty knot in your shoelaces.

I’m your nighttime drowsy and your wakeup grog,
I am your morning breath and your mental smog.
I am the teeny cut that stings so bad,
The very best you'll never have.