Maggot in the Morning

Getting past this point is the

Hardest part of the night for some.

Those mealy-mouthed minions

Sucking away the resplendent nourishment

Given of sleep.

The rejuvenation of darkness,

The silence, the stillness

Recharging the senses to speak.

Waking falls hard when the maggot

Comes calling.

Consciousness fails although consequence knows

It’s responsibility waiting the morning.

The maggot keeps feeding, eating the darkness,

Filling its’ belly to the point of bursting,

Denying the light for as long as it can.

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