Today I wake up crying.
Red eyes catch the afterglow
Of the damp April morning,
Riding along the soft amber light,
The weight of another day seeps in,
Tears begin to fall,
Thick as the spring rain.
I can’t go to work.
But I can’t not go to work.
I can’t do this job.
But I can’t do any other job.
I’m shit at this.
But I’m shit at everything else too.
I’m tired.
Of sobbing as I drift to sleep,
Pleading for a different reality,
Opening my eyes and remembering to hate myself,
Looking in the mirror and spitting it out again
Those same acrid words that cut like broken glass.
Not good enough.
Swim
By
Chrysalis 