there is comfort soaking
in the known routine that revolves around me
predictibility
with a side of certainty
poured out of a box each morning
as I gaze into the bowl of cereal
to see the events of the day rotating
like cornflakes in milky mundane
sweet at first
then the taste of death lingers on my tongue until sunset
followed by bitter regret
I let another day
shape my fate
into sitcom reruns stuck between
couch crevices and tv frames
I know there is more than the day before
waiting for me tomorrow
potential energy I can borrow
and convert myself into something
more free
to be the the voice inside
reminding me who I'm supposed to be
rising above mountain peaks
actualizing dreams I've spent years imagining
as I approach speeds of terminal velocity
and gaze at life beyond this airplane window seat
with hope that courage tastes better than cornflakes from the day before