Some days I find it hard
to come up for air.
The relentlessly unforgiving sunlight,
streaming through, 
breathing down my neck,
like a child taunting me.
As if to say I had already failed,
made weaker by design.
Incapable of mobility
I lay there,
collapsing under the weight
of my own procrastination.
It was nothing short of sheer
self indulgence,
this mask of time
keeping my feet
anchored to the ground.