Tired

By Oliver Hasten

Is it too much of a shame to lie here until I decompose, with my skin growing one with the rusted spring mattress below me? Yet, that is merely a fantasy, for I must pry myself from the ever-so-comfortable position every waking morning in order to supply myself with the funds to fuel a landlord’s bottomless pockets. It’s torturous, this life. Yet, I would never upright dispose of such a gem as myself. But, if I can hasten the process of my inevitable death, then no one can look down at me, critiquing me on my inability to manage this world.