Melting Mornings

I woke up on the kitchen floor Lying in a heap I wipe away sleep Mornings like these I’d much rather weep Linoleum is tiresome and cold to my cheek Pitter-patter; I trickle down a windowpane Clitter-clatter; I’m cleaning out my thoughts again Why were you so mean to me? I wanted to be your friend. Staring at ceiling fans tracing where my thoughts began While he rains pots and pans I try to understand unfinished thoughts that…