Treasure Island

Don Sizemore


Good Morning


Into morning, exit black
Sleep was hungry and now is filled
I don't want to face this day
It's depression or it's pills

I'm too low to face the two faced
Or offer up talk about the weather
To pretend I feel like smiling
Or put myself together

The pieces are wearing at the edges
It takes more effort to make them fit
Every morning in my mirror
I can see I'm full of it

Filled with the dull apprehension
That unhappiness forces to the surface
That far away look and negligible attention span
Often found in the perpetually nervous

I just want it back
That peaceful empty black
That sleep keeping me level
That darkness that hides everything that's bad

Submitted: Wednesday, July 03, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, July 24, 2013

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