Dave Bonta's "Singular" is only three short lines, but it holds a surprisingly full thought. The speaker looks back to a time when they woke up on their own, with no "work" waiting for them. That word could mean a job, but judging by the title and the idea of a "double," it may also mean something like a creative project or a role that follows them around. Now, it seems, that has changed: a second self, tied to that work, sits inside them all day.
The word "singular" suggests the opposite: being one person, undivided. The speaker seems to miss that simple state. The feeling is quiet and a little wistful, maybe uneasy. There's no complaint or drama, just a plain statement of loss. The lack of punctuation and the sudden ending leave the image hanging, so the mood feels hushed, as if the "double" is still there, sitting in the speaker even as they say it.