Ugly September

The brutal, oppressive August gently fades into a dull, ugly September. 

Time marches on like angry fire ants on a mission. 

My dreams solidify in the early morning hours into a fuzzy hallucination.

The realization of death sits behind me like a stranger on a city bus.

I bathe in self loathing before my long commute to the job I detest. 

When all this angst and misery finally ends my memory will last as long as milk left out on the counter.

I struggle to see the point of all of this. 

I struggle to want to continue on this miserable journey.

Complacency holds me like a hot flannel blanket. 

And I walk out into the dull, ugly September day.