Monday

It's Monday, again.

Was it not just Monday?

It seems I accidentally blinked,

Breathed five years in a sigh.

How many more Mondays do I have left,

Do you reckon?

I can't even keep a calendar anymore,

The days rush so far ahead.

So I write to keep track not of time,

But of me.

And by the time I'm done writing,

It's Monday, again.