this morning

sometimes the morning after is too bright. the sunlight drenches all of yesterday’s choices in an uncomfortable staggering illumination and my chest hurts. my mind delivers me to each significant crossroad and i stand still trying to see beyond the fog by borrowing today’s brilliance. but the fog doesn’t evaporate it creeps into me seething over each sighing aching memory as i walk home. the smell of cigarette ashes is pressed into my skin.