Comfortable Misery
Here I go again. Another day, another battle.
Another tragic story waiting to be turned into a happy-go-lucky musical piece.
Does it ever happen? No. Do I wish it would happen? I mean it would be nice to have a change, but I think I’ve found comfort in my misery.
Comfort in the alarm clock buzzing in my ear, yanking me from my dreams and sending me straight into my nightmare.
Comfort in the tedious act of washing my face and doing my makeup to impress people who probably don’t even care what I look like.
Comfort in driving to the office to sit at a desk in a chair that hurts my back and stare at a screen that is gradually blinding me.
This life is slowly sucking the life out of me.
Slowly. Like a frog being warmed in water on the stove. You’re fine, you’re fine, you’re fine and then… BAM… you’re a lifeless zombie and now you have a new misery to find comfort in.
Written in response to J.D. Harms Wednesday poetry prompt Going Through the Motions.
