Sunday, April 8, 2018

Day 93.

Through half-closed eyes
and half-awake mind 
you survive the day. 

Laughing at what is 
supposed to be funny. 
Morning what is 
supposed to be sad. 

Suppressed by numbness, 
a perpetual unease 
eats at your bones. 
You don't even know 
it's there until one day 
you can no longer stand. 
Your legs give out 
from the weight 
they've been carrying. 
Your spine crumbles 
into a pile on the floor. 

Devastated, you sigh relief. 

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