mental health, poetry

Every Day

Pexels

Every day I wake up frustrated

No passing ship in the night

Every day I take a leap

Off the cliff that isn’t there

Every day I sit upon the train track

But the train always switches line

Every day I plan ingestion

Of a cocktail way too expensive

Every day I wrap my dressing gown cord

Around my waist in quiet defeat

Every day I die and burn

My soul dances with the plume of smoke

Every day

Fuck every day

I’m thankful for every day

I imagine what my body would sound like slamming against those rocks and when it lands will my eyes be closed or open?

© Copyright: Sharon Lawson™

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