Morning, My Nemesis

open one  eye

clock tells

woeful tale

overslept

again

sit slowly

so room

doesn’t

spin

drunk

stagger

to dress

lean

against

wall

to keep

balance

looking

every inch

as bad

as I feel

numbness

becomes

radiating pain

can take

my breath

away

seems ironic

shouldn’t

it hurt

less?

try not to

drop

anything

on the floor

I no

longer

bend

sometimes

the past

catches me

cold

leaves me

stuck

in the middle

of the room

trapped

9 thoughts on “Morning, My Nemesis

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