Last Holy week was long,
But this one is longer
Still,
With a ways yet to go,
And I know
It will get where it wants
Whether I notice or not
That essentially
It’s the same length
As all the rest have been,
But that doesn’t help
When I find myself
Being sub divided
By the time it takes
To keep me awake,
As routines seem
To endlessly bleed
Into one another
Whilst remaining isolated
And still able to grate,
And make my lack
Of experience feel inferior,
Thus doubling their already
Troublesome length
And churning me further.
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