Rut
The day refuses to begin,
morning is a blur of hatred,
a fog of dream-induced fears,
a sigh and a rustle of sheets
I started this without knowing,
by stopping
One step is almost a crime
in some directions
This is a lie in another inflection:
I awoke
No new thoughts came,
no new friends,
only stagnation
Quiet endings to things
I didn't know were gone, at first
unused departments, shut down
fat collected here, there
I let politeness be a burden
First they take
your honest compassion,
replace it with obligation
I started this without knowing
by stopping
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