first.thing

by .me.

that’s the hardest.

some people think it’s the evenings,

when the streets go quiet, the cats are sleeping,

and there’s nothing but your own mind

tick

tick

ticking with the days events.

Nights I can handle,

there’s always enough crap on tv to bore me to sleep.

but

first.thing.

that roll over from sleep to awake

when there is no emotion

for a

few.precious.seconds

until

I literally feel my heart sink into my stomach

with the truth

that what I’ve woken up to

is what i fell asleep to.

I guess it’s despair,

a broken heart remembered.

i stop breathing

i clutch my chest, my stomach,

waiting.waiting. it won’t stay long,

but fuck it hurts while it’s there.

I make coffee

roll a cigarette

expose my soul to the rising sun

helps to banish the darkness.

Until first.thing.

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