screams of daylight

I awakened to humidity and the old takeout bags were alive
cascading down from the pile on my desk,
The bedside was vacant
and the empty bottles full of fan blade reflections
provoked me in their green and brown attire,
The sun was wide awake
and screaming over the neighbor’s radio,
I shaved, needlessly
to feel the familiar burn
a young man who could not recall youth
but to burn for it,
That’s the tragedy of living
the hollow glass, the screams of daylight,
and I stepped into the open air
native and confident,
alive with time
to change.