Mo(u)rning

 

The mornings are hard

I wake up licking my wounds, surveying my scars 

Hiding in the quiet

​

Trapped in my head

As  I'm swimming through the tangle of sheets on the bed

I’m drowning quick

I’m already pulled into the thick of it

​

A million things to say
Not yet hushed by the distractions of the day
I look to you

I look to you

​

Hours before dawn
I stifle screaming thoughts with a silent yawn

 

The cold and distant light
           Hid by sheets of grey and endless night

I’ll be alright

I’m not ok

But I’ll survive 

​

A million things to say
Not yet hushed by the distractions of the day
I turn to you

I turn to you

I turn to you