In spite of myself

I know how it is
to heave oneself from twisted blankets
bored
Already
unsatisfied
in the grey morning,
licking at the window
for some new sensation.
Strafed by love
or lack thereof
Jagged
you wander in and out of days
selfishly hoping to be stung
out of the thick static
into a new day
crystalline and distilled
harsh but not unmanageable.