I have habit of daydreaming while doing chores, especially the never ending ones. Sometimes it feels like I am running on a loop with no sign of improvement. So today I chose to swap daydreaming to writing. I left the sink full of dishes to write this one, which of course I came back to in the evening after work.
My yawns have failed to the might you hold
My wrinkled fingers are numb to your hot and cold moods
My back has been compromised by your stubbornness
I can still smell the stench you leave behind
Don’t get me wrong, I am grateful you exist
But sometimes I just wish there was another one of me
To stand up to your might.
You spring up with many traces
Clinging to the footsteps I love
Sneezes are not enough to announce your arrival
One of us must fall under your spell each time
My power is tenacious but so are you
Entering my house when I swept your ass out.
I bring you into my home each week
Sometimes earlier as need be
But you rot at will
Smelling ripe and then ill
I have tried the logical way
But each time I pass by you
Your beauty makes you land in my fridge.
My fingers refuse to kneel before you
So, I spray you with anger
Making you kneel to the mighty washer
The one that yells your defeat
And screams my next task.
Black Coffee and Grey Stories 