Half Dead

Bedtime chaos like a Monday rolling. The sky opened quick, cracked pepper black and grey into the sky knowing it’s a weeknight grind. The dog has lost his mind, seeking shelter in the tub because he doesn’t understand a thing about the weather. I’m tossing and turning with no appetite for sleep, just a gnawing need to eat the night into oblivion. And every milligram steals me away where my body begs but my brain screams “if the average male life expectancy was 77.28 in 2020 then you’re basically half dead already”.