Fatigue

Ever feel this way?

Fatigue

I’ve grown tired
of parking lots,
of asphalt,

the white lines
splayed upon
that black heat

like the bones
of giant fish.
I’d prefer earth

to ache
beneath my weight,
give, like a soft cake,

the grass to bend
beneath my stride,
a hornet, anger and sting,

to damn me
as I disturb
its blossom sweet,

silk and pink,
reminding me
I still matter.

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