The Dust Mites.

Some days:
you just have too much coffee.
It’s just too rainy outside,
too gray and damp, too wet.
You just put too much milk into all those coffees.
The birds outside, living in the tree across the street from your house, are just too loud,
and then theres that splitting headache that you just can’t seem to get rid of.

Some days:
you just have too many thoughts.
It’s just too comfortable inside,
too soft and snug, too content.
You put just too many words into the world.
The dust mites in your bed, feeding off of your dead skin and pretzel crumbs, are just too hungry,
and then theres that sick feeling in your stomach that you just can’t seem to get rid of.