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all of my should haves and what ifs crawl into bed with me at 6:30 on a wednesday morning. some days are worse than others. at 6:45 i reach deep into my throat and pull out the sleep that waits there like a sick dog throwing it over my shoulder and leaving it panting just beneath my pillow waiting for me to return home at the end of another very long day some of which are worse than others. the sunlight reaching its fingers through my bedroom curtains is no longer gold and beautiful but muted blue and grey- i know this feeling. briefly i think i can hear an alarm clock clock down the street or maybe it’s mine i’m not sure i can’t think but i realize eventually it’s just my ears ringing like they do at the start of another unwanted morning so i pull together all the worn stitches at all my exhausted seams just enough to make it downstairs. this is how it always starts but some days are worse than others.
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Sep 6, 2015
Sep 6, 2015 at 12:13 AM UTC
sick days (the quiet comfortable terror of realizing you are alive)
all of my should haves and what ifs crawl into bed with me at 6:30 on a wednesday morning. some days are worse than others. at 6:45 i reach deep into my throat and pull out the sleep that waits there like a sick dog throwing it over my shoulder and leaving it panting just beneath my pillow waiting for me to return home at the end of another very long day some of which are worse than others. the sunlight reaching its fingers through my bedroom curtains is no longer gold and beautiful but muted blue and grey- i know this feeling. briefly i think i can hear an alarm clock clock down the street or maybe it’s mine i’m not sure i can’t think but i realize eventually it’s just my ears ringing like they do at the start of another unwanted morning so i pull together all the worn stitches at all my exhausted seams just enough to make it downstairs. this is how it always starts but some days are worse than others.
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Sep 6, 2015
Sep 6, 2015 at 12:13 AM UTC
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