Week’s End

The week catches under my nails

and snags me by Friday.

I unravel my frustration

Until all I am is loose threads

gathering at the foot of my bed.

Sometimes, I try to pull myself together

and knit myself into a tangled mess of knots,

problems, and last minute requests.

Other times though, I stretch them out

to the length of my bed and lay there for days.

Either way, my heart always presses reset

on its ribcage end table, and my skeleton

jumps and sparks, while pulling back my aura

like a stubborn child kicking and screaming on the floor,

so I will be ready for next week to start the process over again.

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