Wake Up, Beautiful

Rinse.

Repeat.

Rinse.

Repeat.

 

The door slams,

The stairs creak,

The alarm rings,

The water runs.

 

The blinds scratch against the glass

And the sunlight blinds my eyes.

My legs are tangled within my sheets

And I am warm.  For once.

 

I once had the habit of laying still.

Of ignoring the alarm clock

And the wakeup call from mother.

Of dismissing all tries to rouse me.

 

I would lie awake,

Staring at nothing,

Hidden within my blanket,

Thinking.

 

They weren’t always good thoughts.

They would darken my day before it even began.

Cast shadows upon the land.

I would be ice cold with burning skin.

 

I would stay there for hours,

Skipping my meals,

Forgetting my friends.

Wasting away.

 

Slowly, I began to stand.

To stretch my legs.

To leave my bed for dinner.

Then lunch.  Then breakfast.

 

I would get up because I had to,

Because I needed to.

I couldn’t be skin and bones anymore,

With dark circles and silent lips.

 

So I make it a point to get up every morning,

Not to start my day or see my friends or even eat,

But because i have to.  I need to.

Because if I don’t I know I might just never move again.

I’d forget to live.

This poem is about: 
Me

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