by Poet on the Piano   Oct 2, 2020

i don't know how she does it; after
waking up before dawn for two days
in a row, and not seeing the wonder of
a new day, my body aches for more
than rest.

at times, i don't feel like her daughter,
when we live close and our emotions
choose to distance themselves to
protect our dignity.

it's a little past noon and i'm lagging
behind, wondering why we never get
to go back in time, even for a moment;
the coffee reminds me of early
mornings with grandpa, fruit pastries
on the table, Irish cream in his mug
and a snoring dog at his feet.

but memories are not home, they
eventually fade, losing their potency
until I'll eventually have to ask,
was this real?

last night, i shivered, and although the
temperature never quite reached
freezing, it felt like winter had arrived.
i tucked my legs in next to you, my
fleece sheets covering both of us,
and prayed for a quiet night, void of
dreams and disturbances of the mind.

yet here i am, trying to decode the
hungover thoughts, the gnats in my
brain, and it's just as cold as yesterday.


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