forgive me it’s been
awhile since i tried 
to pick apart life 
into a packet of poems
there are two cats
grooming on my bed
and i forget which 
one started it first
and if that really matters?
i hear the screen door
snap outside and 
remember tomorrow
is trash day but i will
wake up and try to 
beat the truck to the curb
and throw all the hot
bags and plastic-dream
to-be recycled and check
off one task to only add
another. there isn’t even
enough time to lick my
skin soft, to pull my hairs
out of my face clean if 
only all i had to do was
take care of myself