Tired Body

It's that point
in my day
when my body
takes a deep drink
from drowsiness,
and my mind
counters
with the subdued introduction
of it's own
self-prescribed
draft
of caffeine.

Caught in
this deliberate torment,
my body
splits itself
into two different bodies.

Muscles
don't tear
in neat lines.
Bones splinter
and ligaments stretch
until everything
snaps and frays.
Contemplations
commence to be contempt
with one another.

Which body am I?

Do I claim
either
of these two ruins,
or shall I take
these last
remaining grains
of wood
and build a new home
in the vacant lot
of some
far gone
soul?