Daybreak

800px-tessellated_pavement_sunrise_landscape                                                                                   Photo by JJ Harrison, via Wikimedia Commons

Morning
sloughs off my shoulders:
a rough wave
leaving subtle scars,
rivers down my back.
I remind myself how to breath again.
How to face the dark of day
when light has not yet touched
it’s edges.

The air is heavy on my head,
pressing a firm hand against my skull.
I bend to the pressure,
kiss my lips to the ground:
uncertain
if this is a posture of prayer or
capitulation.
A rough surrender to
the demons that beset me.

I spend my days sleepwalking,
unrested from the fitful tossing and turning
of “sleep.”
A word which really is just
an ugly and elusive
nightmare.
I am the only guard on duty, and
every night
is my watch.  

I startle myself awake
talking to the spectres that visit
in the dark as I dream.
They fade back into the shadows,
but I know
they’re just waiting
for me to close my eyes again.
Yes, I have skeletons in my closet and
monsters under my bed.

It has been a season of midnight
since before I can remember, I
am pale from lack
of sun.
Weak
from fighting every step.
I can no longer see
the way by these stars,
I am desperate for sunrise.

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