Oct 2015
More often than sometimes
there are days when I wake up
on the wrong side of the bed
and leave a piece of myself on my pillow
or perhaps in my dreams
I drag on for the rest of the day
as three-fourths a person
and one-fourth empty
up until the day is done and it’s time to sleep
then I find that piece of me
there are days when I wake up
on the wrong side of the bed
and leave a piece of myself on my pillow
or perhaps in my dreams
I drag on for the rest of the day
as three-fourths a person
and one-fourth empty
up until the day is done and it’s time to sleep
then I find that piece of me
This poem was written over a year ago -- at the brink of my struggles with diagnosed depression.
