Well after midnight, dark out, rise at seven am.
Metallic bangs and piercing whistles going off in my head.
Sleep is like the memory of a kindergarten toy,
Once loved, but disappeared among the trials in between.
Getting up tired for the fifth time this week.

Robotically dress, wash, eat.
If I can stomach anything.
No real thought process forming,
Nothing going on but everything crashing together at once.

My head has a dull ache, not pain.
My limbs are cramped and lethargy rages throughout me,
Muscle and mind.
I try to think of something to look forward to.
Nothing seems worth it today, but I will fight again tomorrow.

Saturday morning, I awake at 7am, so much for the lie in.
Joyless prospect of tolerating those around me I do love.
My friend who is not my friend,
Is beckoning me down into the thoughtless mire
I’ll go on today.

And start all over again tomorrow.