The Morning After

I open my eyes as the glow of the morning seeps into the room.

My mind immersed in a sleepy fog,

the voice in my head speechless,

shocked by the darkness that has left.

Do I turn a blind eye?

Let it drown in a hollow light?

Watch as a broken soul is stitched

together by a needle of empty hope?

Or do I welcome its shade?

Be paralyzed by an unseen night?

Bask in the sun

leaving a bruised soul untouched?

A deep breath,

a sick sigh,

I step out the door and

I hold my head high.