sad days

These are the days I cry on the bus for no reason
and struggle to get out of bed
when everything I have to look forward to
comes with sharp tongues and skewed perspectives
that have no place in my reality

If I told you I was tired, I’d be lying
I’m not tired
I’m somewhere else
in a spectrum that can’t be measured  
by how hard I worked to earn
the right to sleep

Because no amount of sleep
can shake my bones back into feeling
like they’re guided by more than puppet strings
animating a transient soul through a waning body
that just wants to sleep without reason

If I could shake this sadness I would
but I’m not sure how to
breathe life back into myself
when everyday adds more weight to the one before
and the only place I feel safe is deep under the bed covers
where it doesn’t matter how much the world weighs

These are the days I cry for no reason

Please don’t ask me to get out of bed





© Indie Adams 2017