Lizzy Burnam 🐞

In the morning, I’ll sweep the Should-mites up 
into small piles on the floor until the linoleum shines, 
gray and Shouldless as the naked brain. 
Then, I’ll scrape the browning Should-gunk
from the clogged vents of my earphones. 
I’ll pull strands of Shoulds from the shower drain 
and flush them with the Kleenex I blew the sick-sad Shoulds into. 
I’ll gather the Should-stained hand towels 
and leave them in a heap on the bathroom floor. 
I’ll text the lingering Shoulds and tell them not to wait. 
And from then on, I’ll enter each Shouldless moment 
like I’m walking through an open door.