I understand why animals run into moving cars.

I would do it too if it meant being hit and killed

The bright lights stun me too

Making it impossible for me to understand what is happening

Life is the same for me

But, I never do run into the road

The only light that blinds me is on my ceiling.

I feel like a deer in headlights trying to process what is happening

My alarm always brings me back into the moment somehow

Always trying to decide how to look in the morning

I always give myself two options

I could look and feel nice

Or I could keep rotting in the same sloppy worn-through clothes 

The chance of me looking nice is always appealing to me

I hope one day I can follow through with it

But that day is not today, tomorrow, or even the day after that

I will be Macbeth once more and wear my loose fighting robe

I say I want to look nice, but I know even when I do look nice

I just pick myself apart like an orange

There is no flaw that I won’t critic