Is this mic on?
Morning comes peeking beneath my eyes with bitterness,
sharp and cold.
Tight chested reminders echo,
“Beware, the night is never gone.”
A sadness hangover of puffy eyes
muffled by the dawning of light.
I awaken choking, gagging
spitting on this new day.
The hand of the Sandman, my captor, will drag me unwilling,
humbled, thru the tick tock of time
’til once again I am in darkness
where nightmares come on tippy toes
to sneak and creak into my mind.
Cheri, that’s very sad. I hope it’s not a frequent morning.
I suffer from chronic nightmares 😦
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