When sky swallows night

And coughs up dawn

Until its lungs are empty,   

When morning plugs in the sun

Cranks the volume,

Turns the knob until it clicks like an empty rifle;

The light climbs through my window

With a duffle bag full of reasons

Why I’ve been chosen to continue breathing.

 I don’t ask questions.

I just hope yesterday has forgiven me

For all things I haven’t done