Every night I have the same
accusations for the
headache I sleep on
The same negative words to
make the headache
enjoy its stay
It must be collecting my
regrets to form this physical
form of pain
To wake up to the morning
of yesterday, when none of
the rules set the other
night were not even made
Going about my day while
I enjoy how mundane it is
Before going back to the
dark room,
Lying down,
All the negativity comes down
to a headache
YOU ARE READING
Such a Poet
PoetryA look in to a poet's journal as words emerge from the tip of her ballpen. Contents: pandemic works Completed: December 22, 2022 -̷-̷-̷-̷-̷-̷-̷-̷-̷-̷-̷-̷ A̲r̲e̲ ̲y̲o̲u̲ ̲s̲t̲i̲l̲l̲ ̲w̲o̲r̲k̲i̲n̲g̲?̲ ̲A̲r̲e̲ ̲y̲o̲u̲ ̲s̲t̲i̲l̲l̲ ̲w̲o̲r̲...
