Mornings.
The mornings are always fresh.
Fresh of new thoughts, thoughts with left over thoughts from the day after. Mornings are rough. Do I want to force myself out of my security blanket?
My insecurities are secured in every fiber of my human made cocoon. I lay, seeing all my past fly above my bed, with laughter, pain, anger, confusion? Why are they flying above me?
My emotions are skin to razors in the AM.
I am forcefully pushed back into my bed by my past and insecurities.
But my will power will win...I fight, I push...my painful thoughts aside...and fight for my new fresh day. I win...once again...yes, I win. I am happy. While I wait for another AM.
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Author:
Chanel T. (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: February 24th, 2019 13:27
- Comment from author about the poem: This poem is about struggling with the early AMs. Fighting away thoughts that are always heavy and fresh in the mornings.
- Category: Spiritual
- Views: 7
Offline)
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