Sunday, April 27, 2014


there are weeks when you wonder if you'll make it; if you can manage another day out of bed. 

when the wretched alarm sounds, jerking you from sweet slumber, you lug your heavy limbs out of bed, rising against the intense, delicious force wishing you back into that warm, comfortable place, and stumble to the bathroom, hands spread flat on the hallway walls as a guide in the darkness. lit only by the nightlight glow, you back onto the john, hands reaching for the seat to steady you, and you sit, neither staring nor thinking; existing only. 

a few thoughts find their way into your fuzzy mind and quickly they wither away, unwelcome at this early hour. 

sinking into the seat, toes curling underfoot, cold on the tiled floor beneath you, heaviness sets in. you're heavy with doubt. heavy with emotion. heavy with shame and disappointment. heavy with desire. desire for happiness. desire for a white rabbit to chase down a hole. desire for a passionate kiss, a strong hug, a rough hand to hold, a body that feels familiar. pleasant memories rush and fall down your cheeks as warm tears disguised as longings for the days that used to be. days of laughter and sappy notes. days of squeezing every last moment out of the day. days of holding hands and kissing on street corners, sunday afternoon naps and baking chocolate chip cookies.

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