Slowly creeps one more week

Slowly it comes. Slowly. Doesn't it?

As I sit staring at the screen, blue coming in streams, rings and drifts, it comes.

One more week, today.

The radio distracts, but I know. I know. Still, it comes.

A promise not yet uttered, not yet honored. Still it comes.

The days melt into weeks, the weeks into months. I've known for some time now. I've known, but I thought it was for me. I thought I had more time.

But it's not for me. I realized that today. It hasn't been for me for nearly two years.

So it comes. And it creeps. And it worries, and it weeps. It disguises itself, and it's found out. It stays up late, and it goes to bed early. It does what it does only when it's too much. Then it does more when it forgets.

Welcome, and a swift goodbye. I can't be bothered to think of it further. Almost. Another week.

Do I believe myself? I have, and am always disappointed.

One more week.