Every Morning

The nights get longer

The mornings feel shorter

As I watch the sunrise

Become my lukewarm

reality

Don’t you see the eggs

Sizzling in the pan

Like my mind,

It is mold

Made with sadness

And sweet rose

Scented scars

I am in twists and spins

Lost in my high and lows

Like the steam from

Every coffee I’ve drank

To every chemical pill

Trailing inside of me.

Yet, haven’t you seen

The unopened bag of

Bread or the empty

Cans of monster

And redbull sitting

On my dresser.

I can feel the

emptiness of

My stomach

Wishing it was full.

As I create paintings

With crushed medication

And chemically induced

Syringes

Where my veins wait to

Be plucked by white

Gloved hands.

Dipping my brush into

Water just to receive

A expresso rush.

So, how can I explain

Chemical imbalance

In the brain, a shameful,

Shaken thing of reality

That can’t be seen.

Like the knives in

My back full of blood

Covering shards of

Mirrors as stabilizer

Pills and needles

Poke out of me like

Porcupine.

The doctor again asks

Are you failing back

Into wonderland?

Where your hat remains

With the crumpets and tea

The mad hatter drinks?

I lie, clutching my chest

Floating into where my

Nightmares reside.

How do I explain when I wait for someone to Say?

Do you need a hand?

Do you need a hug?

This is all so temporary

This is what’s unordinary:

I”ll catch you when you fall.

I love you and you’re okay.

Yet, the question is where does it hurt?

Finally, I can feel the day

So, how do I explain something that cannot be seen?

It’s a gift, no

A wonderful tragedy I can love or

Is it happiness in the form of a disease?

It isn’t a miracle from God but a nightmare.

Yes, a nightmare I must live with

Like a beautiful

Ruined constellation.

So I kiss my nightmare every night

As I tuck my partner into bed with me

And tell it good morning with

Butterfly kisses and black coffee.

This is how I explain my sickness every morning