Ah, another day of strife 
Hiding under my spread, 
my blankets, and a pillow. 
When I know there’s only dread. 

To go beyond the snoozing. 
One leg out, then back in. 
A dark cold world snickers. 
I think -how long has it been- 

Of being afraid of every morning 
Hoping to have energy left 
to survive beyond the grind 
It makes me feel bereft 

Of appetite for 


When you figure out the unhappiness starts in the morning.

Photo by Harris Ananiadis on Unsplash

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